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POLLYANNA 


The  GLAD  BOOKS 


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THE  FIRST  GLAD  BOOK 

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By  ELEANOR  H.  PORTER 

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Orange  Blossoms 

THE  THIRD  GLAD  BOOK 

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By  HARRIET  LUMMIS  SMITH 

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53  Beacon  Street  .'.  Boston,  Mass. 


OH,    I   KNOW   JUST   THE    PLACE    FOR    YOU,'    SHE    CRIED." 


POLLYANNA 


By  ELEANOR  H.  PORTER 


AUT«0£  Of 

'Cross  Currents,"  "The  Turn  of  the  Tides"  etc. 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 
Publishers  New  York 

Published  by  arrangement  with  The  Page  Company 
Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


i  -* 


Copyright,  1912,  1913 
By  The  Christian  Herald 

Copyright,  19 13 
By  The  Page  Company 

All  rights  reserved 


Made  in  U.  S.  A. 


TO 

HSij  (Eamin  Weft* 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

^ 

PAGB 

I. 

I 

n. 

9 

m. 

The  Coming  of  Pollyanna     . 

15 

IV. 

The  Little  Attic  Room   . 

27 

v. 

40 

VI. 

A  Question  of  Duty  .... 

.      49 

VII. 

Pollyanna  and  Punishments  . 

•      63 

vni. 

Pollyanna  Pays  a  Visit  . 

72 

DC 

Which  Tells  of  the  Man       .  „    . 

86 

X. 

A  Surprise  for  Mrs.  Snow    .. 

93 

XI. 

107 

XII. 

Before  the  Ladles'  Aid  . 

122 

xin. 

128 

XIV. 

Just  a  Matter  of  Jelly  . 

138 

XV. 

Dr.  Chilton 

147 

XVI. 

A  Red  Rose  and  a  Lace  Shawl   . 

162 

XVII. 

"Just  Like  a  Book"  .... 

173 

XVIII. 

183 

XIX. 

Which  Is  Somewhat  Surprising    . 

192 

XX. 

Which  Is  More  Surprising     .       . 

198 

XXI. 

A  Question  Answered      .       .   v    . 

207 

XXII. 

Sermons  and  Woodboxes  . 
vii 

217 

vm 


Contents 


CHAPTER 

XXIII. 

•    XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

xxvni. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 


An  Accident 

John  Pendleton 

A  Waiting  Game 

A  Door  Ajar    . 

Two  Visits 

The  Game  and  Its  Players 

Through  an  Open  Window 

Jimmy  Takes  the  Helm  . 

A  New  Uncle  . 


.  229 

.  238 

•  249 

•  258 
.  263 
.  274 

•  293 
.  301 
.  306 

Which  Is  a  Letter  from  Pollyanna  309 


POLLYANNA 


CHAPTER   I 

MISS   POLLY 

Miss  Polly  Harrington  entered  her  kitchen  a 
little  hurriedly  this  June  morning.  Miss  Polly  did 
not  usually  make  hurried  movements ;  she  specially 
prided  herself  on  her  repose  of  manner.  But  to-day 
she  was  hurrying  —  actually  hurrying. 

Nancy,  washing  dishes  at  the  sink,  looked  up  in 
surprise.  Nancy  had  been  working  in  Miss  Polly's 
kitchen  only  two  months,  but  already  she  knew  that 
her  mistress  did  not  usually  hurry. 

"  Nancy !  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am."  Nancy  answered  cheerfully,  but 
she  still  continued  wiping  the  pitcher  in  her  hand. 

"  Nancy,"  —  Miss  Polly's  voice  was  very  stern 
now  — "  when  I'm  talking  to  you,  I  wish  you  to 

I 


2  Pollyanna 

stop  your  work  and  listen  to  what  I  have  to 
say." 

Nancy  flushed  miserably.  She  set  the  pitcher 
down  at  once,  with  the  cloth  still  about  it,  thereby 
nearly  tipping  it  over  —  which  did  not  add  to  her 
composure. 

"Yes,  ma'am;  I  will,  ma'am,"  she  stammered, 
righting  the  pitcher,  and  turning  hastily.  "  I  was 
only  keepin'  on  with  my  work  'cause  you  specially 
told  me  this  mornm'  ter  hurry  with  my  dishes,  ye 
know." 

Her  mistress  frowned. 

"  That  will  do,  Nancy.  I  did  not  ask  for  ex- 
planations.    I  asked  for  your  attention." 

"  Yes,  ma'am."  Nancy  stifled  a  sigh.  She  was 
wondering  if  ever  in  any  way  she  could  please  this 
woman.  Nancy  had  never  "worked  out"  before; 
but  a  sick  mother  suddenly  widowed  and  left  with 
three  younger  children  besides  Nancy  herself,  had 
forced  the  girl  into  doing  something  toward  their 
support,  and  she  had  been  so  pleased  when  she 
found  a  place  in  the  kitchen  of  the  great  house  on 
the  hill  —  Nancy  had  come  from  "  The  Corners," 
six  miles  away,  and  she  knew  Miss  Polly  Harring* 
ton  only  as  the  mistress  of  the  old  Harrington  home- 
stead, and  one  of  the  wealthiest  residents  of  the 


Miss  Polly  3 

town.  That  was  two  months  before.  She  knew 
Miss  Polly  now  as  a  stern,  severe-faced  woman  who 
frowned  if  a  knife  clattered  to  the  floor,  or  if  a 
door  banged  —  but  who  never  thought  to  smile  even 
when  knives  and  doors  were  still. 

"  When  you've  finished  your  morning  work, 
Nancy,"  Miss  Polly  was  saying  now,  "  you  may 
clear  the  little  room  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  in  the 
attic,  and  make  up  the  cot  bed.  Sweep  the  room 
and  clean  it,  of  course,  after  you  clear  out  the  trunks 
and  boxes." 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  And  where  shall  I  put  the  things, 
please,  that  I  take  out?  " 

"  In  the  front  attic."  Miss  Polly  hesitated,  then 
went  on :  "I  suppose  I  may  as  well  tell  you  now, 
Nancy.  My  niece,  Miss  Pollyanna  Whittier,  is 
coming  to  live  with  me.  She  is  eleven  years  old, 
and  will  sleep  in  that  room." 

"A  little  girl  —  coming  here,  Miss  Harrington? 
Oh,  won't  that  be  nice !  "  cried  Nancy,  thinking  of 
the  sunshine  her  own  little  sisters  made  in  the  home 
at  "  The  Corners." 

"Nice?  Well,  that  isn't  exactly  the  word  I 
should  use,"  rejoined  Miss  Polly,  stiffly.  "  How- 
ever, I  intend  to  make  the  best  of  it,  of  course.  I 
am  a  good  woman,  I  hope ;   and  I  know  my  duty." 


Nanc3^  colored  hotly. 

"Of  course,  ma'am;  it  was  only  that  I  thought 
a  little  girl  here  might  —  might  brighten  things  up 
—  for  you,"  she  faltered. 

"  Thank  you,"  rejoined  the  lady,  dryly.  "  I  can't 
say,  however,  that  I  see  any  immediate  need  for 
that." 

"But,  of  course,  you  —  you'd  want  her,  your 
sister's  child,"  ventured  Nancy,  vaguely  feeling  that 
somehow  she  must  prepare  a  welcome  for  this  lonely 
little  stranger. 

Miss  Polly  lifted  her  chin  haughtily. 

"  Well,  really,  Nancy,  just  because  I  happened 
to  have  a  sister  who  was  silly  enough  to  marry  and 
bring  unnecessary  children  into  a  world  that  was 
already  quite  full  enough,  I  can't  see  how  I  should 
particularly  want  to  have  the  care  of  them  myself. 
However,  as  I  said  before,  I  hope  I  know  my  duty. 
See  that  you  clean  the  corners,  Nancy,"  she  finished 
sharply,  as  she  left  the  room. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  sighed  Nancy,  picking  up  the 
half-dried  pitcher  —  now  so  cold  it  must  be  rinsed 
again. 

In  her  own  room,  Miss  Polly  took  out  once  more 
tke  letter  which  she  had  received  two  days  before 


Miss  Polly  5 

from  the  far-away  Western  town,  and  which  had 
been  so  unpleasant  a  surprise  to  her.  The  letter 
.was  addressed  to  Miss  Polly  Harrington,  Beldings- 
ville,  Vermont ;  and  it  read  as  follows : 

"  Dear  Madam  :  —  I  regret  to  inform  you  that 
the  Rev.  John  Whittier  died  two  weeks  ago,  leav- 
ing one  child,  a  girl  eleven  years  old.  He  left 
practically  nothing  else  save  a  few  books;  for,  as 
you  doubtless  know,  he  was  the  pastor  of  this  small 
mission  church,  and  had  a  very  meagre  salary. 

"  I  believe  he  was  your  deceased  sister's  husband, 
but  he  gave  me  to  understand  the  families  were  not 
on  the  best  of  terms.  He  thought,  however,  that 
for  your  sister's  sake  you  might  wish  to  take  the 
child  and  bring  her  up  among  her  own  people  in 
the  East.    Hence  I  am  writing  to  you. 

"  The  little  girl  will  be  all  ready  to  start  by  the 
time  you  get  this  letter;  and  if  you  can  take  her, 
we  would  appreciate  it  very  much  if  you  would 
write  that  she  might  come  at  once,  as  there  is  a 
man  and  his  wife  here  who  are  going  East  very 
soon,  and  they  would  take  her  with  them  to  Boston, 
and  put  her  on  the  Beldingsville  train.  Of  course 
you  would  be  notified  what  day  and  train  to  expect 
Pollyanna  on. 


6  Poilvanna 


"  Hoping  to  hear  favorably  from  you  soon,  I 
remain, 

"  Respectfully  yours, 

"  Jeremiah  O.  White." 

With  a  frown  Miss  Polly  folded  the  letter  and 
tucked  it  into  its  envelope.  She  had  answered  it  the 
day  before,  and  she  had  said  she  would  take  the 
'child,  of  course.  She  hoped  she  knew  her  duty  well 
enough  for  that !  —  disagreeable  as  the  task  would 
be. 

As  she  sat  now,  with  the  letter  in  her  hands,  her 
thoughts  went  back  to  her  sister,  Jennie,  who  had 
been  this  child's  mother,  and  to  the  time  when  Jen- 
nie, as  a  girl  of  twenty,  had  insisted  upon  marrying 
the  young  minister,  in  spite  of  her  family's  remon- 
strances. There  had  been  a  man  of  wealth  who  had 
wanted  her  —  and  the  family  had  much  preferred 
him  to  the  minister;  but  Jennie  had  not.  The  man 
of  wealth  had  more  years,  as  well  as  more  money, 
to  his  credit,  while  the  minister  had  only  a  young 
head  full  of  youth's  ideals  and  enthusiasm,  and  a 
heart  full  of  love.  Jennie  had  preferred  these  — 
quite  naturally,  perhaps;  so  she  had  married  the 
minister,  and  had  gone  south  with  him  as  a  home 
missionary's  wife. 


Miss  Polly  7 

— a*  '  ■• 

The  break  had  come  then.  Miss  Polly  remem- 
bered it  well,  though  she  had  been  but  a  girl  of  fif- 
teen, the  youngest,  at  the  time.  The  family  had 
had  little  more  to  do  with  the  missionary's  wife. 
To  be  sure,  Jennie  herself  had  written,  for  a  time, 
and  had  named  her  last  baby  "  Pollyanna "  for 
her  two  sisters,  Polly  and  Anna  —  the  other 
babies  had  all  died.  This  had  been  the  last  time 
that  Jennie  had  written;  and  in  a  few  years 
there  had  come  the  news  of  her  death,  told  in 
a  short,  but  heart-broken  little  note  from  the 
minister  himself,  dated  at  a  little  town  in  the 
West. 

Meanwhile,  time  had  not  stood  still  for  the  occu- 
pants of  the  great  house  on  the  hill.  Miss  Polly, 
looking  out  at  the  far-reaching  valley  below, 
thought  of  the  changes  those  twenty-five  years  had 
brought  to  her. 

She  was  forty  now,  and  quite  alone  in  the  world. 
Father,  mother,  sisters  —  all  were  dead.  For  years, 
now,  she  had  been  sole  mistress  of  the  house  and 
of  the  thousands  left  her  by  her  father.  There  were 
people  who  had  openly  pitied  her  lonely  life,  and 
who  had  urged  her  to  have  some  friend  or  compan- 
ion to  live  with  her;  but  she  had  not  welcomed 
either  their  sympathy  or  their  advice.     She  was  not 


8  Pollyanna 

e 

lonely,  she  said.     She  liked  being  by  herself.     She 

preferred  quiet.    But  now  — 

Miss  Polly  rose  with  frowning  face  and  closely- 
shut  lips.  She  was  glad,  of  course,  that  she  was 
a  good  woman,  and  that  she  not  only  knew  her 
duty,  but  had  sufficient  strength  of  character  to 
perform  it.  But  —  Pollyanna!  —  what  a  ridiculous 
siame! 


CHAPTER    II 

OLD   TOM    AND    NANCY 

In  the  little  attic  room  Nancy  swept  and  scrubbed 
vigorously,  paying  particular  attention  to  the  cor- 
ners. There  were  times,  indeed,  when  the  vigor 
she  put  into  her  work  was  more  of  a  relief  to  her 
feelings  than  it  was  an  ardor  to  efface  dirt  — ■ 
Nancy,  in  spite  of  her  frightened  submission  to  her 
mistress,  was  no  saint. 

"I  —  just  —  wish  —  I  could  —  dig  —  out  — ■ 
the  corners  —  of  —  her  —  soul !  "  she  muttered 
jerkily,  punctuating  her  words  with  murderous  jabs 
of  her  pointed  cleaning-stick.  "  There's  plenty  of 
'em  needs  cleanin'  all  right,  all  right!  The  idea  of 
stickin'  that  blessed  child  'way  off  up  here  in  this 
hot  little  room  —  with  no  fire  in  the  winter,  too; 
and  all  this  big  house  ter  pick  and  choose  from! 
Unnecessary  children,  indeed !  Humph !  "  snapped 
Nancy,  wringing  her  rag  so  hard  her  fingers  ached 
from  the  strain ;  "  I  guess  it  ain't  children  what 
is  most  unnecessary  just  now,  just  now!" 


iO  Polly  anna 

For  some  time  she  worked  in  silence ;  then,  her 
task  finished,  she  looked  about  the  bare  little  room 
in  plain  disgust. 

"  Well,  it's  done  —  my  part,  anyhow,"  she  sighed. 
"  There  ain't  no  dirt  here  —  and  there's  mighty 
little  else.  Poor  little  soul !  —  a  pretty  place  this 
is  ter  put  a  homesick,  lonesome  child  into !  "  she 
finished,  going  out  and  closing  the  door  with  a  bang. 
"  Oh !  "  she  ejaculated,  biting  her  lip.  Then,  dog- 
gedly :  "  Well,  I  don't  care.  I  hope  she  did  hear 
the  bang  —  I  do,  I  do !  " 

In  the  garden  that  afternoon,  Nancy  found  a  few 
minutes  in  which  to  interview  Old  Tom,  who  had 
pulled  the  weeds  and  shovelled  the  paths  about  the 
place  for  uncounted  years. 

"  Mr.  Tom,"  began  Nancy,  throwing  a  quick 
glance  over  her  shoulder  to  make  sure  she  was  un- 
observed ;  "  did  you  know  a  little  girl  was  comin' 
here  ter  live  with  Miss  Polly?  " 

"A  —  what?"  demanded  the  old  man,  straight- 
ening his  bent  back  with  difficulty. 

"  A  little  girl  —  to  live  with  Miss  Polly." 

"  Go  on  with  yer  jokin',"  scoffed  unbelieving 
Tom.  "  Why  don't  ye  tell  me  the  sun  is  a-goinv 
ter  set  in  the  east  ter-morrer?  " 

"  But  it's  true.     She  told  me  so  herself,"  main- 


Old  Tom  and  Nancy  11 

tained  Nancy.  "It's  her  niece;  and  she's  eleven 
years  old." 

The  man's  jaw  fell. 

"  Sho !  —  I  wonder,  now,"  he  muttered ;  then  a 
tender  light  came  into  his  faded  eyes.  "  It  ain't  — 
but  it  must  be  —  Miss  Jennie's  little  gal !  There 
wasn't  none  of  the  rest  of  'em  married.  Why, 
Nancy,  it  must  be  Miss  Jennie's  little  gal.  Glory 
be  ter  praise !  ter  think  of  my  old  eyes  a-seein' 
this !  " 

"  Who  was  Miss  Jennie  ?  " 

"  She  was  an  angel  straight  out  of  Heaven," 
breathed  the  man,  fervently ;  "  but  the  old  master 
and  missus  knew  her  as  their  oldest  daughter.  She 
was  twenty  when  she  married  and  went  away  from 
here  long  years  ago.  Her  babies  all  died,  I  heard, 
except  the  last  one ;  and  that  must  be  the  one  what's 
a-comin'." 

"  She's  eleven  years  old." 

"  Yes,  she  might  be,"  nodded  the  old  man. 

"  And  she's  goin'  ter  sleep  in  the  attic  —  more 
shame  ter  her! "  scolded  Nancy,  with  another 
glance  over  her  shoulder  toward  the  house  behind 
her. 

Old  Tom  frowned.  The  next  moment  a  curious 
smile  curved  his  lips. 


12  Pollyanna 

"  I'm  a-wonderin'  what  Miss  Polly  will  do  with 
a  child  in  the  house,"  he  said. 

"  Humph !  Well,  /'m  a-wonderin'  what  a  child 
will  do  with  Miss  Polly  in  the  house !  "  snapped 
Nancy. 

The  old  man  laughed. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  ain't  fond  of  Miss  Polly,"  he 
grinned. 

"As  if  ever  anybody  could  be  fond  of  her!" 
scorned  Nancy. 

Old  Tom  smiled  oddly.  He  stooped  and  began 
to  work  again. 

"  I  guess  maybe  you  didn't  know  about  Miss 
Polly's  love  affair,"  he  said  slowly. 

"  Love  affair  —  her!  No !  —  and  I  guess  nobody 
else  didn't,  neither." 

"  Oh,  yes  they  did,"  nodded  the  old  man.  "  And 
the  feller's  livin'  ter-day  —  right  in  this  town,  too." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  I  ain't  a-tellin'  that.  It  ain't  fit  that  I  should." 
The  old  man  drew  himself  erect.  In  his  dim  blue 
eyes,  as  he  faced  the  house,  there  was  the  loyai 
servant's  honest  pride  in  the  family  he  has  served 
and  loved  for  long  years. 

"  But  it  don't  seem  possible  —  her  and  a  lover/" 
still  maintained  Nancy. 


Old  Tom  and  Nancy  is 

Old  Tom  shook  his  head. 

"  You  didn't  know  Miss  Polly  as  I  did,"  he 
argued.  "  She  used  ter  be  real  handsome  —  and 
she  would  be  now,  if  she'd  let  herself  be." 

"Handsome!     Miss  Polly!" 

"  Yes.  If  she'd  just  let  that  tight  hair  of  hern 
all  out  loose  and  careless-like,  as  it  used  ter  be,  and 
wear  the  sort  of  bunnits  with  posies  in  'em,  and  the 
kind  o'  dresses  all  lace  and  white  things  —  you'd 
see  she'd  be  handsome!  Miss  Polly  ain't  old, 
Nancy." 

"  Ain't  she,  though  ?  Well,  then  she's  got  an 
awfully  good  imitation  of  it  —  she  has,  she  has!" 
sniffed  Nancy. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  It  begun  then  —  at  the  time  of 
the  trouble  with  her  lover,"  nodded  Old  Tom ;  "  and 
it  seems  as  if  she'd  been  feedin'  on  wormwood  an' 
thistles  ever  since  —  she's  that  bitter  an'  prickly  ter 
deal  with." 

"  I  should  say  she  was,"  declared  Nancy,  indig- 
nantly. "  There's  no  pleasin'  her,  nohow,  no  matter 
how  you  try !  I  wouldn't  stay  if  'twa'n't  for  the 
wages  and  the  folks  at  home  what's  needin'  'em. 
But  some  day  —  some  day  I  shall  jest  b'ile  over; 
and  when  I  do,  of  course  it'll  be  good-by  Nancy 
for  me.     It  will,  it  will." 


14  Pollyanna 

Old  Tom  shook  his  head. 

"  I  know.  I've  felt  it.  It's  nart'ral  —  but  'tain't 
best,  child;  'tain't  best.  Take  my  word  for  it, 
'tain't  best."  And  again  he  bent  his  old  head  to 
the  work  before  him. 

"  Nancy !  "  called  a  sharp  voice. 

:'  Y-yes,  ma'am,"  stammered  Nancy;  and  hur- 
ried toward  the  house. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE    COMING   OF    POLLYANNA 

In  due  time  came  the  telegram  announcing  that 
Pollyanna  would  arrive  in  Beldingsville  the  next 
day,  the  twenty-fifth  of  June,  at  four  o'clock.  Miss 
Polly  read  the  telegram,  frowned,  then  climbed  the 
stairs  to  the  attic  room.  She  still  frowned  as  she 
looked  about  her. 

The  room  contained  a  small  bed,  neatly  made, 
two  straight-backed  chairs,  a  washstand,  a  bureau 
—  without  any  mirror  —  and  a  small  table.  There 
were  no  drapery  curtains  at  the  dormer  windows, 
no  pictures  on  the  wall.  All  day  the  sun  had  been 
pouring  down  upon  the  roof,  and  the  little  room 
was  like  an  oven  for  heat.  As  there  were  no 
screens,  the  windows  had  not  been  raised.  A  big 
fly  was  buzzing  angrily  at  one  of  them  now,  up  and 
down,  up  and  down,  trying  to  get  out. 

Miss  Polly  killed  the  fly,  swept  it  through  the 
window  (raising  the  sash  an  inch  for  the  purpose), 

15 


16  Pollyanna 

straightened  a  chair,  frowned  again,  and  left  the 
room. 

"  Nancy,"  she  said  a  few  minutes  later,  at  the 
kitchen  door,  "  I  found  a  fly  up-stairs  in  Miss  Polly- 
anna's  room.  The  window  must  have  been  raised 
at  some  time.  I  have  ordered  screens,  but  until 
they  come  I  shall  expect  you  to  see  that  the  win- 
dows remain  closed.  My  niece  will  arrive  to-mor- 
row at  four  o'clock.  I  desire  you  to  meet  her  at 
the  station.  Timothy  will  take  the  open  buggy  and 
drive  you  over.  The  telegram  says  '  light  hair,  red- 
checked  gingham  dress,  and  straw  hat.'  That  is 
all  I  know,  but  I  think  it  is  sufficient  for  your  pur- 
pose." 

"  Yes,  ma'am ;   but  —  you  —  " 

Miss  Polly  evidently  read  the  pause  aright,  foi 
she  frowned  and  said  crisply : 

"  No,  I  shall  not  go.  It  is  not  necessary  that  I 
should,  I  think.  That  is  all."  And  she  turned  away 
—  Miss  Polly's  arrangements  for  the  comfort  of 
her  niece,  Pollyanna,  were  complete. 

In  the  kitchen,  Nancy  sent  her  flatiron  with  a 
vicious  dig  across  the  dish-towel  she  was  ironing. 

"  '  Light  hair,  red-checked  gingham  dress,  and 
straw  hat '  —  all  she  knows,  indeed !  Well,  I'd  be 
ashamtd  ter  own  it  up,  that  I  would,  I  would-— 


The  Coming  of  Pollyanna  17 

and  her  my  onliest  niece  what  was  a-comin'  from 
'way  across  the  continent !  " 

Promptly  at  twenty  minutes  to  four  the  next 
afternoon  Timothy  and  Nancy  drove  off  in  the  open 
buggy  to  meet  the  expected  guest.  Timothy  was 
Old  Tom's  son.  It  was  sometimes  said  in  the  town 
that  if  Old  Tom  was  Miss  Polly's  right-hand  man, 
Timothy  was  her  left. 

Timothy  was  a  good-natured  youth,  and  a  good- 
looking  one,  as  well.  Short  as  had  been  Nancy's 
stay  at  the  house,  the  two  were  already  good 
friends.  To-day,  howevei,  Nancy  was  too  full  of 
her  mission  to  be  her  usual  talkative  self;  and  al- 
most in  silence  she  took  the  drive  to  the  station  and 
alighted  to  wait  for  the  train. 

Over  and  over  in  her  mind  she  was  saying  it  — 
"  light  hair,  red-checked  dress,  straw  hat."  Over 
and  over  again  she  was  wondering  just  what  sort 
of  child  this  Pollyanna  was,  anyway. 

"  I  hope  for  her  sake  she's  quiet  and  sensible,  and 
don't  drop  knives  nor  bang  doors,"  she  sighed  to 
Timothy,  who  had  sauntered  up  to  her. 

"  Well,  if  she  ain't,  nobody  knows  what'll  be- 
come of  the  rest  of  us,"  grinned  Timothy.  "  Im- 
agine Miss  Polly  and  a  noisy  kid!  Gorry!  there 
goes  the  whistle  now ! " 


18  Polly  anna 

"  Oh,  Timothy,  I  —  I  think  it  was  mean  ter  send 
me,"  chattered  the  suddenly  frightened  Nancy,  as 
she  turned  and  hurried  to  a  point  where  she  could 
best  watch  the  passengers  alight  at  the  little  station. 

It  was  not  long  before  Nancy  saw  her  —  the 
slender  little  girl  in  the  red-checked  gingham  with 
two  fat  braids  of  flaxen  hair  hanging  down  her 
back.  Beneath  the  straw  hat,  an  eager,  freckled 
little  face  turned  to  the  right  and  to  the  left,  plainly 
searching  for  some  one. 

Nancy  knew  the  child  at  once,  but  not  for  some 
time  could  she  control  her  shaking  knees  sufficiently 
to  go  to  her.  The  little  girl  was  standing  quite  by 
herself  when  Nancy  finally  did  approach  her. 

"Are  you  Miss  —  Pollyanna?"  she  faltered. 
The  next  moment  she  found  herself  half  smothered 
in  the  clasp  of  two  gingham-clad  arms. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad,  glad,  glad  to  see  you,"  cried 
an  eager  voice  in  her  ear.  "  Of  course  I'm  Polly- 
anna, and  I'm  so  glad  you  came  to  meet  me!  I 
hoped  you  would." 

"You  —  you  did?"  stammered  Nancy,  vaguely 
wondering  how  Pollyanna  could  possibly  have 
known  her  —  and  wanted  her.  "  You  —  you  did  ?  " 
she  repeated,  trying  to  straighten  her  hat. 

"  Oh,  yes ;   and  I've  been  wondering  all  the  way 


The  Coming  of  Pollyanna  19 

here  what  you  looked  like,"  cried  the  little  girl, 
dancing  on  her  toes,  and  sweeping  the  embarrassed 
Nancy  from  head  to  foot,  with  her  eyes.  "  And 
now  I  know,  and  I'm  glad  you  look  just  like  you 
do  look." 

Nancy  was  relieved  just  then  to  have  Timothy 
come  up.  Pollyanna's  words  had  been  most  con- 
fusing. 

"  This  is  Timothy.  Maybe  you  have  a  trunk," 
she  stammered. 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  nodded  Pollyanna,  importantly. 
"  I've  got  a  brand-new  one.  The  Ladies'  Aid 
bought  it  for  me  —  and  wasn't  it  lovely  of  them, 
when  they  wanted  the  carpet  so?  Of  course  I  don't 
know  how  much  red  carpet  a  trunk  could  buy,  but 
it  ought  to  buy  some,  anyhow  —  much  as  half  an 
aisle,  don't  you  think?  I've  got  a  little  thing  here 
in  my  bag  that  Mr.  Gray  said  was  a  check,  and  that 
I  must  give  it  to  you  before  I  could  get  my  trunk. 
Mr.  Gray  is  Mrs.  Gray's  husband.  They're  cousins 
of  Deacon  Carr's  wife.  I  came  East  with  them, 
and  they're  lovely!  And  —  there,  here  'tis,"  she 
finished,  producing  the  check  after  much  fumbling 
in  the  bag  she  carried. 

Nancy  drew  a  long  breath.  Instinctively  she  fel" 
that  some  one  had  to  draw  one  —  after  that  speech. 


20  Pollyanna 


Then  she  stole  a  glance  at  Timothy.  Timothy's 
eyes  were  studiously  turned  away. 

The  three  were  off  at  last,  with  Pollyanna's  trunk 
in  behind,  and  Pollyanna  herself  snugly  ensconced 
between  Nancy  and  Timothy.  During  the  whole 
process  of  getting  started,  the  little  girl  had  kept 
up  an  uninterrupted  stream  of  comments  and  ques- 
tions, until  the  somewhat  dazed  Nancy  found  her- 
self quite  out  of  breath  trying  to  keep  up  with  her. 

"There!  Isn't  this  lovely?  Is  it  far?  I  hope 
'tis  —  I  love  to  ride,"  sighed  Pollyanna,  as  the 
wheels  began  to  turn.  "  Of  course,  if  'tisn't  far,  I 
sha'n't  mind,  though,  'cause  I'll  be  glad  to  get  there 
all  the  sooner,  you  know.  What  a  pretty  street! 
I  knew  'twas  going  to  be  pretty ;  father  told  me  —  " 

She  stopped  with  a  little  choking  breath.  Nancy, 
looking  at  her  apprehensively,  saw  that  her  small 
chin  was  quivering,  and  that  her  eyes  were  full  of 
tears.  In  a  moment,  however,  she  hurried  on,  with 
a  brave  lifting  of  her  head. 

"  Father  told  me  all  about  it.  He  remembered. 
And  —  and  I  ought  to  have  explained  before.  Mrs. 
Gray  told  me  to,  at  once  —  about  this  red  gingham 
dress,  you  know,  and  why  I'm  not  in  black.  She 
said  you'd  think  'twas  queer.  But  there  weren't 
any  black  things  in  the  last  missionary  barrel,  only 


The  Coming  of  Pollyanna  21 

a  lady's  velvet  basque  which  Deacon  Carr's  wife 
said  wasn't  suitable  for  me  at  all;  besides,  it  had 
white  spots  —  worn,  you  know  —  on  both  elbows, 
and  some  other  places.  Part  of  the  Ladies'  Aid 
wanted  to  buy  me  a  black  dress  and  hat,  but  the 
.other  part  thought  the  money  ought  to  go  toward 
the  red  carpet  they're  trying  to  get  —  for  the 
church,  you  know.  Mrs.  White  said  maybe  it  was 
just  as  well,  anyway,  for  she  didn't  like  children 
in  black  —  that  is,  I  mean,  she  liked  the  children, 
of  course,  but  not  the  black  part." 

Pollyanna  paused  for  breath,  and  Nancy  managed 
to  stammer : 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  it  —  it'll  be  all  right." 

"  I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way.  I  do,  too,"  nodded 
Pollyanna,  again  with  that  choking  little  breath. 
"  Of  course,  'twould  have  been  a  good  deal  harder 
to  be  glad  in  black  —  " 

"  Glad !  "  gasped  Nancy,  surprised  into  an  inter- 
ruption. 

"  Yes  —  that  father's  gone  to  Heaven  to  be  with 
mother  and  the  rest  of  us,  you  know.  He  said  I 
must  be  glad.  But  it's  been  pretty  hard  to  —  to 
do  it,  even  in  red  gingham,  because  I  —  I  wanted 
him,  so ;  and  I  couldn't  help  feeling  I  ought  to  have 
him,  specially  as  mother  and  the  rest  have  God  and 


22  Follyanna 

all  the  angels,  while  I  didn't  have  anybody  but  the 
Ladies'  Aid.  But  now  I'm  sure  it'll  be  easier  be- 
cause I've  got  you,  Aunt  Polly.  I'm  so  glad  I've 
got  you!  " 

Nancy's  aching  sympathy  for  the  poor  little  for- 
lornness  beside  her  turned  suddenly  into  shocked 
terror. 

"  Oh,  but  —  but  you've  made  an  awful  mistake, 
d-dear,"  she  faltered.  "  I'm  only  Nancy.  I  ain't 
your  Aunt  Polly,  at  all !  " 

"  You  —  you  aren't?  "  stammered  the  little  girl, 
in  plain  dismay. 

"  No.  I'm  only  Nancy.  I  never  thought  of  your 
takin'  me  for  her.  We — we  ain't  a  bit  alike  — 
we  ain't,  we  ain't !  " 

Timothy  chuckled  softly;  but  Nancy  was  too 
disturbed  to  answer  the  merry  flash  from  his  eyes. 

"  But  who  are  you  ? "  questioned  Pollyanna. 
"  You  don't  look  a  bit  like  a  Ladies'  Aider!  " 

Timothy  laughed  outright  this  time. 

"  Pm  Nancy,  the  hired  girl.  I  do  all  the  work 
except  the  washin'  an'  hard  ironin'.  Mis'  Durgin 
does  that." 

"But  there  is  an  Aunt  Polly?"  demanded  the 
child,  anxiously. 

"  You  bet  your  life  there  is,"  cut  in  Timothy. 


The  Coming  of  Pollyanna  23 

c  a 

Pollyanna  relaxed  visibly. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,  then."  There  was  a  mo- 
ment's silence,  then  she  went  on  brightly :  "  And 
do  you  know?  I'm  glad,  after  all,  that  she  didn't 
come  to  meet  me;  because  now  I've  got  her  still 
coming,  and  I've  got  you  besides." 

Nancy  flushed.  Timothy  turned  to  her  with  a 
quizzical  smile. 

"  I  call  that  a  pretty  slick  compliment,"  he  said. 
"  Why  don't  you  thank  the  little  lady?  " 

"I  — I  was  thinkin'  about  — Miss  Polly,"  fal- 
tered Nancy. 

Pollyanna  sighed  contentedly. 

"  I  was,  too.  I'm  so  interested  in  her.  You 
know  she's  all  the  aunt  I've  got,  and  I  didn't  know 
I  had  her  for  ever  so  long.  Then  father  told  me. 
He  said  she  lived  in  a  lovely  great  big  house  'way 
on  top  of  a  hill." 

"  She  does.  You  can  see  it  now,"  said  Nancy. 
"  It's  that  big  white  one  with  the  green  blinds,  'way 
ahead." 

"  Oh,  how  pretty !  —  and  what  a  lot  of  trees  and 
grass  all  around  it !  I  never  saw  such  a  lot  of  green 
grass,  seems  so,  all  at  once.  Is  my  Aunt  Polly  rich, 
Nancy?" 

"Yes,  Miss." 


24  Pollyanna 

"  I'm  so  glad.  It  must  be  perfectly  lovely  to  have 
lots  of  money.  I  never  knew  any  one  that  did  have, 
only  the  Whites  —  they're  some  rich.  They  have 
carpets  in  every  room  and  ice-cream  Sundays.  Does 
Aunt  Polly  have  ice-cream  Sundays  ?  " 

Nancy  shook  her  head.  Her  lips  twitched.  She 
threw  a  merry  look  into  Timothy's  eyes. 

"  No,  Miss.  Your  aunt  don't  like  ice-cream,  I 
guess ;  leastways  I  never  saw  it  on  her  table." 

Pollyanna' s  face  fell. 

"Oh,  doesn't  she?  I'm  so  sorry!  I  don't  see 
how  she  can  help  liking  ice-cream.  But  —  anyhow, 
I  can  be  kinder  glad  about  that,  'cause  the  ice-cream 
you  don't  eat  can't  make  your  stomach  ache  like 
Mrs.  White's  did  —  that  is,  I  ate  hers,  you  know, 
lots  of  it.  Maybe  Aunt  Polly  has  got  the  carpets, 
though." 

"  Yes,  she's  got  the  carpets." 

"  In  every  room  ?  " 

"  Well,  in  almost  every  room,"  answered  Nancy, 
frowning  suddenly  at  the  thought  of  that  bare  little 
attic  room  where  there  was  no  carpet. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad,"  exulted  Pollyanna.  "  I  love 
carpets.  We  didn't  have  any,  only  two  little  rugs 
that  came  in  a  missionary  barrel,  and  one  of  those 
had  ink  spots  on  it.    Mrs.  White  had  pictures,  too, 


The  Coming  of  Pollyanna  25 

perfectly  beautiful  ones  of  roses  and  little  girls 
kneeling  and  a  kitty  and  some  lambs  and  a  lion  — 
not  together,  you  know — the  lambs  and  the  lion. 
Oh,  of  course  the  Bible  says  they  will  sometime,  but 
they  haven't  yet  —  that  is,  I  mean  Mrs.  White's 
haven't.     Don't  you  just  love  pictures?" 

"I  —  I  don't  know,"  answered  Nancy  in  a  half- 
stifled  voice. 

"  I  do.  We  didn't  have  any  pictures.  They  don't 
come  in  the  barrels  much,  you  know.  There  did 
two  come  once,  though.  But  one  was  so  good 
father  sold  it  to  get  money  to  buy  me  some  shoes 
with ;  and  the  other  was  so  bad  it  fell  to  pieces  just 
as  soon  as  we  hung  it  up.  Glass  —  it  broke,  you 
know.  And  I  cried.  But  I'm  glad  now  we  didn't 
have  any  of  those  nice  things,  'cause  I  shall  like 
Aunt  Polly's  all  the  better  —  not  being  used  to  'em, 
you  see.  Just  as  it  is  when  the  pretty  hair-ribbons 
come  in  the  barrels  after  a  lot  of  faded-out  brown 
ones.  My!  but  isn't  this  a  perfectly  beautiful 
house  ?  "  she  broke  off  fervently,  as  they  turned  into 
the  wide  driveway. 

It  was  when  Timothy  was  unloading  the  trunk 
that  Nancy  found  an  opportunity  to  mutter  low  in 
his  ear: 

"  Don't  you  never  say  nothin'  ter  me  again  about 


26  Pollyanna 

leavin',  Timothy  Durgin.  You  couldn't  hire  me 
ter  leave ! " 

"  Leave !  I  should  say  not,"  grinned  the  youth. 
"  You  couldn't  drag  me  away.  It'll  be  more  fun 
here  now,  with  that  kid  'round,  than  movin'-picture 
shows,  every  day!" 

"  Fun !  —  fun !  "  repeated  Nancy,  indignantly. 
"  I  guess  it'll  be  somethin'  more  than  fun  for  that 
blessed  child  —  when  them  two  tries  ter  live  ter- 
gether;  and  I  guess  she'll  be  a-needin'  some  rock  ter 
fly  to  for  refuge.  Well,  I'm  a-goin'  ter  be  that 
rock,  Timothy;  I  am,  I  am!"  she  vowed,  as  she 
turned  and  led  Pollyanna  up  the  broad  steps. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  LITTLE  ATTIC  ROOM 

Miss  Polly  Harrington  did  not  rise  to  meet 
her  niece.  She  looked  up  from  her  book,  it  is  true, 
as  Nancy  and  the  little  girl  appeared  in  the  sitting- 
room  doorway,  and  she  held  out  a  hand  with 
"  duty "  written  large  on  every  coldly  extended 
ringer. 

"How  do  you  do,  Pollyanna?  I  —  "  She  had 
no  chance  to  say  more.  Pollyanna  had  fairly 
flown  across  the  room  and  flung  herself  into  her 
aunt's  scandalized,  unyielding  lap. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  Aunt  Polly,  I  don't  know  how 
to  be  glad  enough  that  you  let  me  come  to  live 
with  you,"  she  was  sobbing.  "  You  don't  know 
how  perfectly  lovely  it  is  to  have  you  and  Nancy 
and  all  this  after  you've  had  just  the  Ladies'  Aid!  " 

"  Very  likely  —  though  I've  not  had  the  pleasure 

of  the  Ladies'  Aid's  acquaintance,"  rejoined  Miss 

Polly,  stiffly,  trying  to  unclasp  the  small,  clinging 

fingers,  and  turning  frowning  eyes  on  Nancy  in  the 

doorway.     "  Nancy,  that  will  do.     You  may  go. 

27 


28  Pollyanna 

3 

Pollyanna,  be  good  enough,  please,  to  stand  erect 
in  a  proper  manner.  I  don't  know  yet  what  you 
look  like." 

Pollyaiina  drew  back  at  once,  laughing  a  little 
hysterically. 

"  No,  I  suppose  you  don't ;  but  you  see  I'm  not 
very  much  to  look  at,  anyway,  on  accoant  of  the 
freckles.  Oh,  and  I  ought  to  explain  about  the  red 
gingham  and  the  black  velvet  basque  with  white 
spots  on  the  elbows.  I  told  Nancy  how  father 
said  —  " 

"  Yes ;  well,  never  mind  now  what  your  father 
said,"  interrupted  Miss  Polly,  crisply.  "  You  had 
a  trunk,   I  presume?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed,  Aunt  Polly.  I've  got  a  beau- 
tiful trunk  that  the  Ladies'  Aid  gave  me.  I  haven't 
got  so  very  much  in  it  —  of  my  own,  I  mean.  The 
^barrels  haven't  had  many  clothes  for  little  girls  in 
them  lately;  but  there  were  all  father's  books,  and 
Mrs.  White  said  she  thought  I  ought  to  have  those. 
You  see,  father  —  " 

"  Pollyanna,"  interrupted  her  aunt  again, 
sharply,  "  there  is  one  thing  that  might  just  as 
well  be  understood  right  away  at  once;  and  that 
is,  I  do  not  care  to  have  you  keep  talking  of  your 
father  to  me." 


The  Little  Attic  Room  29 

The  little  girl  drew  in  her  breath  tremulously. 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  you  —  you  mean  —  "  She 
hesitated,  and  her  aunt  rilled  the  pause. 

"  We  will  go  up-stairs  to  your  room.  Your 
trunk  is  already  there,  I  presume.  I  told  Timothy 
to  take  it  up  —  if  you  had  one.  You  may  follow 
me,  Pollyanna." 

Without  speaking,  Pollyanna  turned  and  fol- 
lowed her  aunt  from  the  room.  Her  eyes  were 
brimming  with  tears,  but  her  chin  was  bravely 
high. 

"  After  all,  I  —  I  reckon  I'm  glad  she  doesn't 
want  me  to  talk  about  father,"  Pollyanna  was 
thinking.  "  It'll  be  easier,  maybe  —  if  I  don't  talk 
about  him.  Probably,  anyhow,  that  is  why  she 
told  me  not  to  talk  about  him."  And  Pollyanna, 
convinced  anew  of  her  aunt's  "  kindness,"  blinked 
off  the  tears  and  looked  eagerly  about  her. 

She  was  on  the  stairway  now.  Just  ahead,  her 
aunt's  black  silk  skirt  rustled  luxuriously.  Behind 
her  an  open  door  allowed  a  glimpse  of  soft-tinted 
rugs  and  satin-covered  chairs.  Beneath  her  feet  a 
marvellous  carpet  was  like  green  moss  to  the  tread. 
On  every  side  the  gilt  of  picture  frames  or  the 
glint  of  sunlight  through  the  filmy  mesh  of  lace 
curtains  flashed  in  her  eyes. 


30  Pollyanna 

"Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  Aunt  Polly,"  breathed  the 
little  girl,  rapturously;  "what  a  perfectly  lovely, 
lovely  house!  How  awfully  glad  you  must  be 
you're  so  rich! " 

"  Folly  anna!"  ejaculated  her  aunt,  turning 
sharply  about  as  she  reached  the  head  of  the 
stairs.  "  I'm  surprised  at  you  —  making  a  speech 
like  that  to  me !  " 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  aren't  you  ?"  queried  Polly- 
anna, in  frank  wonder. 

"  Certainly  not,  Pollyanna.  I  hope  I  could  not 
so  far  forget  myself  as  to  be  sinfully  proud  of  any 
gift  the  Lord  has  seen  fit  to  bestow  upon  me,"  de- 
clared the  lady;  "certainly  not,  of  riches!" 

Miss  Polly  turned  and  walked  down  the  hall 
toward  the  attic  stairway  door.  She  was  glad, 
now,  that  she  had  put  the  child  in  the  attic  room. 
Her  idea  at  first  had  been  to  get  her  niece  as  far 
away  as  possible  from  herself,  and  at  the  same 
time  place  her  where  her  childish  heedlessness 
would  not  destroy  valuable  furnishings.  Now — > 
with  this  evident  strain  of  vanity  showing  thus 
early — >it  was  all  the  more  fortunate  that  the 
room  planned  for  her  was  plain  and  sensible, 
thought  Miss  Polly. 

Eagerly  Pollyanna's  small  feet  pattered  behind 


The  Little  Attic  Room  31 

her  aunt.  Still  more  eagerly  her  big  blue  eyes  tried 
to  look  in  all  directions  at  once,  that  no  thing  of 
beauty  or  interest  in  this  wonderful  house  might 
be  passed  unseen.  Most  eagerly  of  all  her  mind 
turned  to  the  wondrously  exciting  problem  about  to 
be  solved:  behind  which  of  all  these  fascinating 
doors  was  waiting  now  her  room  —  the  dear,  beau- 
tiful room  full  of  curtains,  rugs,  and  pictures,  that 
was  to  be  her  very  own?  Then,  abruptly,  her 
aunt  opened  a  door  and  ascended  another  stair- 
way. 

There  was  little  to  be  seen  here.  A  bare  wall 
rose  on  either  side.  At  the  top  of  the  stairs,  wide 
reaches  of  shadowy  space  led  to  far  corners  where 
the  roof  came  almost  down  to  the  floor,  and  where 
were  stacked  innumerable  trunks  and  boxes.  It  was 
hot  and  stifling,  too.  Unconsciously  Pollyanna 
lifted  her  head  higher  —  it  seemed  so  hard  to 
breathe.  Then  she  saw  that  her  aunt  had  thrown 
open  a  door  at  the  right. 

"  There,  Pollyanna,  here  is  your  room,  and  your 
trunk  is  here,  I  see.     Have  you  your  key?  " 

Pollyanna  nodded  dumbly.  Her  eyes  were  & 
little  wide  and  frightened. 

Her  aunt  frowned. 

"  When  I  ask  a  question,  Pollyanna,  I  prefer  that 


32  Pollyanna 

a 
you  should  answer  aloud  —  not  merely  with  your 
head." 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Polly." 

"  Thank  you ;  that  is  better.  I  believe  you  have 
everything  that  you  need  here,"  she  added,  glancing 
at  the  well-filled  towel  rack  and  water  pitcher.  "  I 
will  send  Nancy  up  to  help  you  unpack.  Supper  is 
at  six  o'clock,"  she  finished,  as  she  left  the  room 
and   swept  down-stairs. 

For  a  moment  after  she  had  gone  Pollyanna 
stood  quite  still,  looking  after  her.  Then  she 
turned  her  wide  eyes  to  the  bare  wall,  the  bare 
floor,  the  bare  windows.  She  turned  them  last  to 
the  little  trunk  that  had  stood  not  so  long  before 
in  her  own  little  room  in  the  far-away  Western 
home.  The  next  moment  she  stumbled  blindly 
toward  it  and  fell  on  her  knees  at  its  side,  covering 
her  face  with  her  hands. 

Nancy  found  her  there  when  she  came  up  a  few 
minutes  later. 

"  There,  there,  you  poor  lamb,"  she  crooned, 
dropping  to  the  floor  and  drawing  the  little  girl 
*nto  her  arms.  "  I  was  just  a-fearin'  I'd  find  you 
like  this,  like  this." 

Pollyanna  shook  her  head. 

'But    I'm    bad    and    wicked,    Nancy  —  awful 


The  Little  Attic  Room  38 

wicked,"  she  sobbed.  "  I  just  can't  make  myself 
understand  that  God  aiid  the  angels  needed  my 
father  more  than  I  did." 

"  No  more  they  did,  neither,"  declared  Nancy, 
stoutly. 

"Oh-h! — Nancy!"  The  burning  horror  in 
Pollyanna's  eyes  dried  the  tears. 

Nancy  gave  a  shamefaced  smile  and  rubbed  her 
own  eyes  vigorously. 

"  There,  there,  child,  I  didn't  mean  it,  of  course," 
she  cried  briskly.  "  Come,  let's  have  your  key  and 
we'll  get  inside  this  trunk  and  take  our  your  dresses 
in  no  time,  no  time." 

Somewhat  tearfully  Pollyanna  produced  the  key. 

"  There  aren't  very  many  there,  anyway,"  she 
faltered. 

"  Then  they're  all  the  sooner  unpacked,"  declared 
Nancy. 

Pollyanna  gave  a  sudden  radiant  smile. 

"  That's  so!  I  can  be  glad  of  that,  can't  I ?  "  she 
cried. 

Nancy  stared. 

"  Why,  of  —  course,"  she  answered  a  little  un- 
certainly. 

Nancy's  capable  hands  made  short  work  of  un- 
packing the  books,  the  patched  undergarments,  and 


84  Pollyanna 

the  few  pitifully  unattractive  dresses.  Pollyanna, 
smiling  bravely  now,  flew  about,  hanging  the 
dresses  in  the  closet,  stacking  the  books  on  the  table, 
and  putting  away  the  undergarments  in  the  bureau 
drawers. 

"  I'm  sure  it  —  it's  going  to  be  a  very  nice  room. 
Don't  you  think  so  ?  "  she  stammered,  after  a  while. 

There  was  no  answer.  Nancy  was  very  busy, 
apparently,  with  her  head  in  the  trunk.  Pollyanna, 
standing  at  the  bureau,  gazed  a  little  wistfully  at 
the  bare  wall  above. 

"  And  I  can  be  glad  there  isn*t  any  looking-glass 
here,  too,  'cause  where  there  isn't  any  glass  I  can't 
see  my  freckles." 

Nancy  made  a  sudden  queer  little  sound  with  her 
mouth  —  but  when  Pollyanna  turned,  her  head  was 
in  the  trunk  again.  At  one  of  the  windows,  a  few 
minutes  later,  Pollyanna  gave  a  glad  cry  and  clapped 
her  hands  joyously. 

"  Oh,  Nancy,  I  hadn't  seen  this  before,"  she 
breathed.  "  Look  —  'way  off  there,  with  those 
trees  and  the  houses  and  that  lovely  church  spire, 
and  the  river  shining  just  like  silver.  Why,  Nancy, 
there  doesn't  anybody  need  any  pictures  with  that 
to  look  at.  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  now  she  let  me  have 
this  room!" 


The  Little  Attic  Room  35 

To  Pollyanna's  surprise  and  dismay,  Nancy  burst 
into  tears.    Pollyanna  hurriedly  crossed  to  her  side. 

"  Why,  Nancy,  Nancy  —  what  is  it  ?  "  she  cried ; 
then,  fearfully :  "  This  wasn't  —  your  room,  was 
it?" 

"  My  room !  "  stormed  Nancy,  hotly,  choking 
back  the  tears.  "  If  you  ain't  a  little  angel  straight 
from  Heaven,  and  if  some  folks  don't  eat  dirt  be- 
fore—  Oh,  land!  there's  her  bell!  "  After  which 
amazing  speech,  Nancy  sprang  to  her  feet,  dashed 
out  of  the  room,  and  went  clattering  down  the 
stairs. 

Left  alone,  Pollyanna  went  back  to  her  "  pic- 
ture," as  she  mentally  designated  the  beautiful  view 
from  the  window.  After  a  time  she  touched  the 
sash  tentatively.  It  seemed  as  if  no  longer  could 
she  endure  the  stifling  heat.  To  her  joy  the  sash 
moved  under  her  fingers.  The  next  moment  the 
window  was  wide  open,  and  Pollyanna  was  leaning 
far  out,  drinking  in  the  fresh,  sweet  air. 

She  ran  then  to  the  other  window.  That,  too, 
soon  flew  up  under  her  eager  hands.  A  big  fly 
swept  past  her  nose,  and  buzzed  noisily  about  the 
room.  Then  another  came,  and  another;  but 
Pollyanna  paid  no  heed.  Pollyanna  had  made  a 
wonderful  discovery  —  against  this  window  a  huge 


36  PoIIyanna 

tree  flung  great  branches.  To  PoIIyanna  they 
looked  like  arms  outstretched,  inviting  her. 

Suddenly  she  laughed  aloud. 

"  I  believe  I  can  do  it,"  she  chuckled.  The  next 
moment  she  had  climbed  nimbly  to  the  window 
ledge.  From  there  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  step 
to  the  nearest  tree-branch.  Then,  clinging  like  a 
monkey,  she  swung  herself  from  limb  to  limb  until 
the  lowest  branch  was  reached.  The  drop  to  the 
ground  was — even  for  PoIIyanna,  who  was  used 
to  climbing  trees  —  a  little  fearsome.  She  took  it, 
however,  with  bated  breath,  swinging  from  her 
strong  little  arms,  and  landing  on  all  fours  in  the 
soft  grass.  Then  she  picked  herself  up  and  looked 
eagerly  about  her. 

She  was  at  the  back  of  the  house.  Before  her 
lay  a  garden  in  which  a  bent  old  man  was  working. 
Beyond  the  garden  a  little  path  through  an  open 
field  led  up  a  steep  hill,  at  the  top  of  which  a  lone 
pine  tree  stood  on  guard  beside  the  huge  rock.  To 
PoIIyanna,  at  the  moment,  there  seemed  to  be  just 
one  place  in  the  world  worth  being  in  —  the  top 
of  that  big  rock. 

With  a  run  and  a  skilful  turn,  PoIIyanna  skipped 
by  the  bent  old  man,  threaded  her  way  between  the 
orderly  rows  of  green   growing  things,  and  —  a 


The  Little  Attic  Room  37 

little  out  of  breath  —  reached  the  path  that  ran 
through  the  open  field.  Then,  determinedly,  she 
began  to  climb.  Already,  however,  she  was  think- 
ing what  a  long,  long  way  off  that  rock  must 
be,  when  back  at  the  window  it  had  looked  so 
near! 

Fifteen  minutes  later  the  great  clock  in  the  hall- 
way of  the  Harrington  homestead  struck  six.  At 
precisely  the  last  stroke  Nancy  sounded  the  bell  for 
supper. 

One,  two,  three  minutes  passed.  Miss  Polly 
frowned  and  tapped  the  floor  with  her  slipper.  A 
little  jerkily  she  rose  to  her  feet,  went  into  the  hall, 
and  looked  up-stairs,  plainly  impatient.  For  a 
minute  she  listened  intently;  then  she  turned  and 
swept  into  the  dining  room. 

"  Nancy,"  she  said  with  decision,  as  soon  as  the 
little  serving-maid  appeared ;  "  my  niece  is  late.  No, 
you  need  not  call  her,"  she  added  severely,  as  Nancy 
made  a  move  toward  the  hall  door.  "  I  told  her 
what  time  supper  was,  and  now  she  will  have  to 
suffer  the  consequences.  She  may  as  well  begin  at 
once  to  learn  to  be  punctual.  When  she  comes 
down  she  may  have  bread  and  milk  in  the  kitchen." 

"  Yes,  ma'am."    It  was  well,  perhaps,  that  Miss 


88  Pollyanna 


Polly  did  not  happen  to  be  looking  at  Nancy's  face 
just  then. 

At  the  earliest  possible  moment  after  supper, 
Nancy  crept  up  the  back  stairs  and  thence  to  the 
attic  room. 

"  Bread  and  milk,  indeed !  —  and  when  the  poor 
lamb  hain't  only  just  cried  herself  to  sleep,"  she 
was  muttering  fiercely,  as  she  softly  pushed  open 
the  door.  The  next  moment  she  gave  a  frightened 
cry.  "  Where  are  you  ?  Where've  you  gone  ? 
Where  have  you  gone?"  she  panted,  looking  in  the 
closet,  under  the  bed,  and  even  in  the  trunk  and 
down  the  water  pitcher.  Then  she  flew  down-stairs 
and  out  to  Old  Tom  in  the  garden. 

"  Mr.  Tom,  Mr.  Tom,  that  blessed  child's  gone," 
she  wailed.  "  She's  vanished  right  up  into  Heaven 
where  she  come  from,  poor  lamb  —  and  me  told 
ter  give  her  bread  and  milk  in  the  kitchen  —  her 
what's  eatin'  angel  food  this  minute,  I'll  warrant, 
I'll   warrant t" 

The  old  man  straightened  up. 

"  Gone  ?  Heaven  ?  "  he  repeated  stupidly,  un- 
consciously sweeping  the  brilliant  sunset  sky  with 
his  gaze.  He  stopped,  stared  a  moment  intently, 
then  turned  with  a  slow  grin.  "  Well,  Nancy,  it 
do  look  like  as  if  she'd  tried  ter  get  as  nigh  Heaven 


The  Little  Attic  Room  39 

as  she  could,  and  that's  a  fact,"  he  agreed,  pointing 
with  a  crooked  finger  to  where,  sharply  outlined 
ugainst  the  reddening  sky,  a  slender,  wind-blown 
figure  was  poised  on  top  of  a  huge  rock. 

"  Well,  she  ain't  goin'  ter  Heaven  that  way  ter- 
night  —  not  if  I  has  my  say,"  declared  Nancy, 
doggedly.  "  If  the  mistress  asks,  tell  her  I  ain't 
furgettin'  the  dishes,  but  I  gone  on  a  stroll,"  she 
flung  back  over  her  shoulder,  as  she  sped  toward 
the  path  that  led  through  the  open  field. 


CHAPTER   V 


THE    GAME 


"  For  the  land's  sake,  Miss  Pollyanna,  what  a 
scare  you  did  give  me,"  panted  Nancy,  hurrying 
up  to  the  big  rock,  down  which  Pollyanna  had  just 
regretfully  slid. 

"Scare?  Oh,  I'm  so  sorry;  but  you  mustn't, 
really,  ever  get  scared  about  me,  Nancy.  Father 
and  the  Ladies'  Aid  used  to  do  it,  too,  till  they 
found  I  always  came  back  all  right." 

"  But  I  didn't  even  know  you'd  went,"  cried 
Nancy,  tucking  the  little  girl's  hand  under  her  arm 
and  hurrying  her  down  the  hill.  "  I  didn't  see  you 
go,  and  nobody  didn't.  I  guess  you  flew  right  up 
through  the  roof;  I  do,  I  do." 

Pollyanna  skipped  gleefully. 

"  I  did,  'most  —  only  I  flew  down  instead  of  up. 
I  came  down  the  tree." 

Nancy  stopped  short. 

"You  did  — what?" 

"  Came  down  the  tree,  outside  my  window." 
*0 


The  Game  41 

"  My  stars  and  stockings !  "  gasped  Nancy,  hurry- 
ing on  again.  "  I'd  like  ter  know  what  yer  aunt 
would  say  ter  that !  " 

"Would  you?  Well,  I'll  tell  her,  then,  so 
you  can  find  out,"  promised  the  little  girl,  cheer- 
fully. 

"  Mercy !  "  gasped  Nancy.     "  No  —  no !  " 

"  Why,  you  don't  mean  she'd  care! "  cried 
Pollyanna,   plainly  disturbed. 

"  No  —  er  —  yes  —  well,  neve-f  mind.  I  —  I 
ain't  so  very  particular  about  knowin'  what  she'd 
say,  truly,"  stammered  Nancy,  determined  to  keep 
one  scolding  from  Pollyanna,  if  nothing  more. 
"  But,  say,  we  better  hurry.  I've  got  ter  get  them 
dishes  done,  ye  know." 

"  I'll  help,"  promised  Pollyanna,  promptly. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Pollyanna ! "  demurred  Nancy. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence.  The  sky  was 
darkening  fast.  Pollyanna  took  a  firmer  hold  of  her 
friend's  arm. 

"  I  reckon  I'm  glad,  after  all,  that  you  did  get 
scared  —  a  little,  'cause  then  you  came  after  me," 
she  shivered. 

"  Poor  little  lamb !  And  you  must  be  hungry, 
too.  I  —  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  ter  have  bread  and 
milk  in  the  kitchen  with  me.     Yer  aunt  didn't  like 


42  Pollyanna 

L  ,         I1  J. 

it  —  because  you  didn't  come  down  ter  supper,  ye 
know." 

"  But  I  couldn't.     I  was  up  here." 

"  Yes ;  but  —  she  didn't  know  that,  you  see," 
observed  Nancy,  dryly,  stifling  a  chuckle.  "  I'm 
sorry  about  the  bread  and  milk;   I  am,  I  am." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not.     I'm  glad." 

"Glad!    Why?" 

"  Why,  I  like  bread  and  milk,  and  I'd  like  to  eat 
with  you.  I  don't  see  any  trouble  about  being  glad 
about  that." 

"  You  don't  seem  ter  see  any  trouble  bein'  glad 
about  everythin',"  retorted  Nancy,  choking  a  little 
over  her  remembrance  of  Pollyanna's  brave  at- 
tempts to  like  the  bare  little  attic  room. 

Pollyanna  laughed  softly. 

"  Well,  that's  the  game,  you  know,  anyway." 

"  The  —  game?  " 

"  Yes ;   the  '  just  being  glad  '  game." 

"  Whatever  in  the  world  are  you  talkin'  about  ?  " 

"  Why,  it's  a  game.  Father  told  it  to  me,  and 
it's  lovely,"  rejoined  Pollyanna.  "  We've  played 
it  always,  ever  since  I  was  a  little,  little  girl.  I  told 
the  Ladies'  Aid,  and  they  played  it  —  some  of 
them." 

"  What  is  it?    I  ain't  much  on  games,  though." 


The  Game  43 

Pollyanna  laughed  again,  but  she  sighed,  too; 
and  in  the  gathering  twilight  her  face  looked  thin 
and  wistful. 

"  Why,  we  began  it  on  some  crutches  that  came 
in  a  missionary  barrel." 

"  Crutches! " 

"  Yes.  You  see  I'd  wanted  a  doll,  and  father  had 
written  them  so ;  but  when  the  barrel  came  the  lady 
wrote  that  there  hadn't  any  dolls  come  in,  but  the 
little  crutches  had.  So  she  sent  'em  along  as  they 
might  come  in  handy  for  some  child,  sometime. 
And  that's  when  we  began  it." 

"  Well,  I  must  say  I  can't  see  any  game  about 
that,  about  that,"  declared  Nancy,  almost  irri- 
tably. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  the  game  was  to  just  find  something 
about  everything  to  be  glad  about  —  no  matter  what 
'twas,"  rejoined  Pollyanna,  earnestly.  "  And  we 
began  right  then  —  on  the  crutches." 

"  Well,  goodness  me !  I  can't  see  anythin'  ter 
be  glad  about  —  gettin'  a  pair  of  crutches  when 
you  wanted  a  doll !  " 

Pollyanna  clapped  her  hands. 

"  There  is  —  there  is,"  she  crowed.  "  But  I 
couldn't  see  it,  either,  Nancy,  at  first,"  she  added, 
with  quick  honesty.     "  Father  had  to  tell  it  to  me." 


44  Pollyanna 

aaaaa 

"  Well,  then,  suppose  you  tell  w^/'  almost 
snapped  Nancy. 

"  Goosey !  Why,  just  be  glad  because  you  don't 
—  need —  'em!"  exulted  Pollyanna,  triumphantly. 
"  You  see  it's  just  as  easy  —  when  you  know  how !  " 

"  Well,  of  all  the  queer  doin's !  "  breathed  Nancy, 
regarding  Pollyanna  with  almost  fearful  eyes. 

"  Oh,  but  it  isn't  queer  —  it's  lovely,"  maintained 
Pollyanna  enthusiastically.  "  And  we've  played  it 
ever  since.  And  the  harder  'tis,  the  more  fun  'tis 
to  get  'em  out ;  only  —  only  —  sometimes  it's  al- 
most too  hard  —  like  when  your  father  goes  to 
Heaven,  and  there  isn't  anybody  but  a  Ladies'  Aid 
left." 

"  Yes,  or  when  you're  put  in  a  snippy  little  room 
'way  at  the  top  of  the  house  with  nothin'  in  it," 
growled  Nancy. 

Pollyanna  sighed. 

"  That  was  a  hard  one,  at  first,"  she  admitted, 
"  specially  when  I  was  so  kind  of  lonesome.  I  just 
didn't  feel  like  playing  the  game,  anyway,  and  I 
had  been  wanting  pretty  things,  so !  Then  I  hap- 
pened to  think  how  I  hated  to  see  my  freckles  in 
the  looking-glass;  and  I  saw  that  lovely  picture  out 
the  window,  too;  so  then  I  knew  I'd  found  the 
things  to  be  glad  about.     You  see,  when  you're 


The  Game  45 


hunting  for  the  glaci  things,  you  sort  of  forget 
the  other  kind  —  like  the  doll  you  wanted,  you 
know." 

"  Humph !  "  choked  Nancy,  trying  to  swallow  the 
lump  in  her  throat. 

"  Most  generally  it  doesn't  take  so  long,"  sighed 
Pollyanna;  "  and  lots  of  times  now  I  just  think  of 
them  without  thinking,  you  know.  I've  got  so  used 
to  playing  it.  It's  a  lovely  game.  F-father  and  I 
used  to  like  it  so  much,"  she  faltered.  "  I  suppose, 
though,  it  —  it'll  be  a  little  harder  now,  as  long  as 
I  haven't  anybody  to  play  it  with.  Maybe  Aunt 
Polly  will  play  it,  though,"  she  added,  as  an  after- 
thought. 

"  My  stars  and  stockings !  —  her!  "  breathed 
Nancy,  behind  her  teeth.  Then,  aloud,  she  said 
doggedly :  "  See  here,  Miss  Pollyanna,  I  ain't 
sayin'  that  I'll  play  it  very  well,  and  I  ain't  sayin' 
that  I  know  how,  anyway;  but  I'll  play  it  with  ye, 
after  a  fashion  —  I  just  will,  I  will !  " 

"Oh,  Nancy!"  exulted  Pollyanna,  giving  her  a 
rapturous  hug.  "  That'll  be  splendid !  Won't  we 
have  fun  ?  " 

"  Er  —  maybe,"  conceded  Nancy,  in  open  doubt. 
"  But  you  mustn't  count  too  much  on  me,  ye  know. 
I  never  was  no  case  fur  games,  but  I'm  a-goin'  ter 


46  Pollyanna 

make  a  most  awful  old  try  on  this  one.  You're 
goin'  ter  have  some  one  ter  play  it  with,  any- 
how," she  finished,  as  they  entered  the  kitchen 
together. 

Pollyanna  ate  her  bread  and  milk  with  good  ap- 
petite; then,  at  Nancy's  suggestion,  she  went  into 
the  sitting  room,  where  her  aunt  sat  reading. 

Miss  Polly  looked  up  coldly. 

"  Have  you  had  your  supper,  Pollyanna  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Polly." 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  Pollyanna,  to  have  been  obliged 
so  soon  to  send  you  into  the  kitchen  to  eat  bread 
and  milk." 

"  But  I  was  real  glad  you  did  it,  Aunt  Polly.  I 
like  bread  and  milk,  and  Nancy,  too.  You  mustn't 
feel  bad  about  that  one  bit." 

Aunt  Polly  sat  suddenly  a  little  more  erect  in  her 
chair. 

"  Pollyanna,  it's  quite  time  you  were  in  bed.  You 
have  had  a  hard  day,  and  to-morrow  we  must  plan 
your  hours  and  go  over  your  clothing  to  see  what 
it  is  necessary  to  get  for  you-  Nancy  will  give  you 
a  candle.  Be  careful  how  you  handle  it.  Breakfast 
will  be  at  half-past  seven.  See  that  you  are  down 
to  that.     Good-night." 

Quite  as  a  matter  of  course,   Pollyanna  came 


The  Game  47 

straight  to  her  aunt's  side  and  gave  her  an  affec- 
tionate hug. 

"  I've  had  such  a  beautiful  time,  so  far,"  she 
sighed  happily.  "  I  know  I'm  going  to  just  love 
living  with  you  —  but  then,  I  knew  I  should  before 
I  came.  Good-night,"  she  called  cheerfully,  as  she 
ran  from  the  room. 

"  Well,  upon  my  soul !  "  ejaculated  Miss  Polly, 
half  aloud.  "  What  a  most  extraordinary  child !  " 
Then  she  frowned.  "  She's  '  glad '  I  punished  her, 
and  I  '  mustn't  feel  bad  one  bit,'  and  she's  going  to 
Move  to  live'  with  me!  Well,  upon  my  soul!" 
ejaculated  Miss  Polly  again,  as  she  took  up  her 
book. 

Fifteen  minutes  later,  in  the  attic  room,  a  lonely 
little  girl  sobbed  into  the  tightly-clutched  sheet: 

"  I  know,  father-among-the-angels,  I'm  not  play- 
ing the  game  one  bit  now  —  not  one  bit ;  but  I 
don't  believe  even  you  could  find  anything  to  be 
glad  about  sleeping  all  alone  'way  off  up  here  in 
the  dark  —  like  this.  If  only  I  was  near  Nancy 
or  Aunt  Polly,  or  even  a  Ladies'  Aider,  it  would 
be  easier !  " 

Down-stairs  in  the  kitchen,  Nancy,  hurrying  with 
her  belated  work,  jabbed  her  dish-mop  into  the 
milk  pitcher,  and  muttered  jerkily: 


48  Pollyanna 

"If  play  in'  a  silly- fool  game  —  about  bein'  glad 
you've  got  crutches  when  you  want  dolls  —  is  got 
ter  be  —  my  way  —  o'  bein'  that  rock  o'  refuge  — 
why,  I'm  a-goin'  ter  play  it — I  am,  I  am!" 


CHAPTER    VI 

A    QUESTION    OF   DUTY 

It  was  nearly  seven  o'clock  when  Pollyanna 
awoke  that  first  day  after  her  arrival.  Her  win- 
dows faced  the  south  and  the  west,  so  she  could 
not  see  the  sun  yet ;  but  she  could  see  the  hazy  blue 
of  the  morning  sky,  and  she  knew  that  the  day 
promised  to  be  a  fair  one. 

The  little  room  was  cooler  now,  and  the  air  blew 
in  fresh  and  sweet.  Outside,  the  birds  were  twit- 
tering joyously,  and  Pollyanna  flew  to  the  window 
to  talk  to  them.  She  saw  then  that  down  in  the 
garden  her  aunt  was  already  out  among  the  rose- 
bushes. With  rapid  fingers,  therefore,  she  made 
herself  ready  to  join  her. 

Down  the  attic  stairs  sped  Pollyanna,  leaving 
both  doors  wide  open.  Through  the  hall,  down  the 
next  flight,  then  bang  through  the  front  screened- 
door  and  around  to  the  garden,  she  ran. 

Aunt  Polly,  with  the  bent  old  man,  was  leaning 
over  a  rose-bush  when  Pollyanna,  gurgling  with 
delight,  flung  herself  upon  her. 

49 


50  Pollyanna 


"  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  Aunt  Polly,  I  reckon  I  am 
glad  this  morning  just  to  be  alive!  " 

"  Pollyanna! "  remonstrated  the  lady,  sternly, 
pulling  herself  as  erect  as  she  could  with  a  drag- 
ging weight  of  ninety  pounds  hanging  about  her 
neck.  "  Is  this  the  usual  way  you  say  good  morn- 
ing?" 

The  little  girl  dropped  to  her  toes,  and  danced 
lightly  up  and  down. 

"  No,  only  when  I  love  folks  so  I  just  can't  help 
it!  I  saw  you  from  my  window,  Aunt  Polly,  and 
I  got  to  thinking  how  you  weren't  a  Ladies'  Aider, 
and  you  were  my  really  truly  aunt ;  and  you  looked 
so  good  I  just  had  to  come  down  and  hug  you !  " 

The  bent  old  man  turned  his  back  suddenly.  Miss 
Polly  attempted  a  frown  —  with  not  her  usual  suc- 
cess. 

"  Pollyanna,  you  —  I  —  Thomas,  that  will  do  for 
this  morning.  I  think  you  understand  —  about 
those  rose-bushes,"  she  said  stiffly.  Then  she  turned 
and  walked  rapidly  away. 

"  Do  you  always  work  in  the  garden,  Mr.  — 
Man  ?  "  asked  Pollyanna,   interestedly. 

The  man  turned.  His  lips  were  twitching,  but 
his  eyes  looked  blurred  as  if  with  tears. 

"Yes,  Miss.     I'm  Old  Tom,  the  gardener,"  he 


A  Question  of  Duty  51 

answered.  Timidly,  but  as  if  impelled  by  an  irre- 
sistible force,  he  reached  out  a  shaking  hand  and 
let  it  rest  for  a  moment  on  her  bright  hair.  "  You 
are  so  like  your  mother,  little  Miss!  I  used  ter 
know  her  when  she  was  even  littler  than  you  be. 
You  see,  I  used  ter  work  in  the  garden  —  then." 

Pollyanna  caught  her  breath  audibly. 

"  You  did?  And  you  knew  my  mother,  really  — 
wThen  she  was  just  a  little  earth  angel,  and  not  a 
Heaven  one?  Oh,  please  tell  me  about  her!  "  And 
down  plumped  Pollyanna  in  the  middle  of  the  dirt 
path  by  the  old  man's  side. 

A  bell  sounded  from  the  house.  The  next  mo- 
ment Nancy  was  seen  flying  out  the  back  door. 

"  Miss  Pollyanna,  that  bell  means  breakfast  — 
mornin's,"  she  panted,  pulling  the  little  girl  to  her 
feet  and  hurrying  her  back  to  the  house ;  "  and  other 
times  it  means  other  meals.  But  it  always  means 
that  you're  ter  run  like  time  when  ye  hear  it,  no 
matter  where  ye  be.  If  ye  don't  —  well,  it'll  take 
somethin'  smarter'n  we  be  ter  find  anythin'  ter  be 
glad  about  in  that!"  she  finished,  shooing  Polly- 
anna into  the  house  as  she  would  shoo  an  unruly 
chicken  into  a  coop. 

Breakfast,  for  the  first  five  minutes,  was  a  silent 
meal;   then  Miss  Polly,  her  disapproving  eyes  fol- 


52  Pollyanna 

~ — -  — — ■ ? 

lowing  the  airy  wings  of  two  flies  darting  here  and 
there  over  the  table,  said  sternly : 

"  Nancy,  where  did  those  flies  come  from  ?  '' 

"  I  don't  know,  ma'am.  There  wasn't  one  in  the 
kitchen."  Nancy  had  been  too  excited  to  notice 
Pollyanna's  up-flung  windows  the  afternoon  before.; 

"  I  reckon  maybe  they're  my  flies,  Aunt  Polly," 
observed  Pollyanna,  amiably.  "  There  were  lots  of 
them  this  morning  having  a  beautiful  time  up- 
stairs." 

Nancy  left  the  room  precipitately,  though  to  do 
so  she  had  to  carry  out  the  hot  muffins  she  had  just 
brought  in. 

"  Yours !  "  gasped  Miss  Polly.  "  What  do  you 
mean  ?    Where  did  they  come  from  ?  " 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  they  came  from  out  of  doors, 
of  course,  through  the  windows.  I  saw  some  of 
them  come  in." 

"  You  saw  them !  You  mean  you  raised  those 
windows  without  any  screens  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes.  There  weren't  any  screens  there, 
Aunt  Polly." 

Nancy,  at  this  moment,  came  in  again  with  the 
muffins.     Her  face  was  grave,  but  very  red. 

"  Nancy,"  directed  her  mistress,  sharply,  "  you 
may  set  the  muffins  down  and  go  at  once  to  Miss 


A  Question  of  Duty  53 

Pollyanna's  room  and  shut  the  windows.  Shut  the 
doors,  also.  Later,  when  your  morning  work  is 
done,  go  through  every  room  with  the  spatter.  See 
that  you  make  a  thorough  search." 

To  her  niece  she  said : 

"  Pollyanna,  I  have  ordered  screens  for  those 
windows.  I  knew,  of  course,  that  it  was  my  duty 
to  do  that.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  you  have  quite 
forgotten  your  duty." 

"My  —  duty?"  Pollyanna's  eyes  were  wide 
with  wonder. 

"  Certainly.  I  know  it  is  warm,  but  I  consider 
it  your  duty  to  keep  your  windows  closed  till  those 
screens  come.  Flies,  Pollyanna,  are  not  only  un- 
clean and  annoying,  but  very  dangerous  to  health. 
After  breakfast  I  will  give  you  a  little  pamphlet  on 
this  matter  to  read." 

"  To  read  ?  Oh,  thank  you,  Aunt  Polly.  I  love 
to  read !  " 

Miss  Polly  drew  in  her  breath  audibly,  then  she 
shut  her  lips  together  hard.  Pollyanna,  seeing  her 
stern  face,  frowned  a  little  thoughtfully. 

"  Of  course  I'm  sorry  about  the  duty  I  forgot, 
Aunt  Polly,"  she  apologized  timidly.  "  I  won't 
raise  the  windows  again." 

Her  aunt  made  no  reply.    She  did  not  speak,  in- 


54  Pollyanna 

saa 
deed,  until  the  meal  was  over.  Then  she  rose,  went 
to  the  bookcase  in  the  sitting  room,  took  out  a  small 
paper  booklet,  and  crossed  the  room  to  her  niece's 
side. 

"  This  is  the  article  I  spoke  of,  Pollyanna.  I  de- 
sire you  to  go  to  your  room  at  once  and  read  it.  I 
will  be  up  in  half  an  hour  to  look  over  your  things." 

Pollyanna,  her  eyes  on  the  illustration  of  a  fly's 
head,  many  times  magnified,  cried  joyously : 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Aunt  Polly !  "  The  next  mo- 
ment she  skipped  merrily  from  the  room,  banging 
the  door  behind  her. 

Miss  Polly  frowned,  hesitated,  then  crossed  the 
room  majestically  and  opened  the  door;  but  Polly- 
anna was  already  out  of  sight,  clattering  up  the 
attic  stairs. 

Half  an  hour  later  when  Miss  Polly,  her  face  ex- 
pressing stern  duty  in  every  line,  climbed  those 
stairs  and  entered  Pollyanna's  room,  she  was 
greeted  with  a  burst  of  eager  enthusiasm. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  I  never  saw  anything  so  per- 
fectly lovely  and  interesting  in  my  life.  I'm  so  glad 
you  gave  me  that  book  to  read !  Why,  I  didn't 
suppose  flies  could  carry  such  a  lot  of  things  on 
their  feet,  and  —  " 

"  That  will  do,"  observed  Aunt  Polly,  with  dig- 


A  Question  of  Duty  55 

nity.  "  Pollyanna,  you  may  bring  out  your  clothes 
now,  and  I  will  look  them  over.  What  are  not  suit- 
able for  you  I  shall  give  to  the  Sullivans,  of  course." 

With  visible  reluctance  Pollyanna  laid  down  the 
pamphlet  and  turned  toward  the  closet. 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  think  they're  worse  than  the 
Ladies'  Aid  did  —  and  they  said  they  were  shame- 
ful," she  sighed.  "  But  there  were  mostly  things 
for  boys  and  older  folks  in  the  last  two  or  three 
barrels ;  and  —  did  you  ever  have  a  missionary 
barrel,  Aunt  Polly?" 

At  her  aunt's  look  of  shocked  anger,  Pollyanna 
corrected  herself  at  once. 

"  Why,  no,  of  course  you  didn't,  Aunt  Polly !  " 
she  hurried  on,  with  a  hot  blush.  "  I  forgot ;  rich 
folks  never  have  to  have  them.  But  you  see  some- 
times I  kind  of  forget  that  you  are  rich  —  up  here 
in  this  room,  you  know." 

Miss  Polly's  lips  parted  indignantly,  but  no  words 
came.  Pollyanna,  plainly  unaware  that  she  had 
said  anything  in  the  least  unpleasant,  was  hurrying 
on. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  going  to  say,  you  can't  tell  a 
thing  about  missionary  barrels  —  except  that  you 
won't  find  in  'em  what  you  think  you're  going  to  — 
even  when  you  think  you  won't.     It  was  the  barrels 


56  Pollyanna 

every  time,  too,  that  were  hardest  to  play  the  game 
on,  for  father  and  —  " 

Just  in  time  Pollyanna  remembered  that  she  was 
not  to  talk  of  her  father  to  her  aunt.  She  dived 
into  her  closet  then,  hurriedly,  and  brought  out  all 
the  poor  little  dresses  in  both  her  arms. 

"  They  aren't  nice,  at  all,"  she  choked,  "  and 
they'd  been  black  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  red  carpet 
for  the  church;   but  they're  all  I've  got." 

With  the  tips  of  her  fingers  Miss  Polly  turned 
over  the  conglomerate  garments,  so  obviously  made 
for  anybody  but  Pollyanna.  Next  she  bestowed 
frowning  attention  on  the  patched  undergarments 
in  the  bureau  drawers. 

"  I've  got  the  best  ones  on,"  confessed  Polly- 
anna, anxiously.  "  The  Ladies'  Aid  bought  me  one 
set  straight  through  all  whole.  Mrs.  Jones  —  she's 
the  president  —  told  'em  I  should  have  that  if  they 
had  to  clatter  down  bare  aisles  themselves  the  rest 
of  their  days.  But  they  won't.  Mr.  White  doesn't 
like  the  noise.  He's  got  nerves,  his  wife  says ;  but 
he's  got  money,  too,  and  they  expect  he'll  give  a  lot 
toward  the  carpet  —  on  account  of  the  nerves,  you 
know.  I  should  think  he'd  be  glad  that  if  he  did 
have  the  nerves  he'd  gut  money,  too;  shouldn't 
you?" 


A  Question  of  Duty  57 

Miss  Polly  did  not  seem  to  hear.  Her  scrutiny 
of  the  undergarments  finished,  she  turned  to  Polly- 
anna  somewhat  abruptly. 

"  You  have  been  to  school,  of  course,  Polly- 
anna?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Aunt  Polly.  Besides,  fath —  I  mean, 
I  was  taught  at  home  some,  too." 

Miss  Polly  frowned. 

"  Very  good.  In  the  fall  you  will  enter  school 
here,  of  course.  Mr.  Hall,  the  principal,  will  doubt- 
less settle  in  which  grade  you  belong.  Meanwhile, 
I  suppose  I  ought  to  hear  you  read  aloud  half  an 
hour  each  day." 

"  I  love  to  read ;  but  if  you  don't  want  to  hear 
me  I'd  be  just  glad  to  read  to  myself  —  truly, 
Aunt  Polly.  And  I  wouldn't  have  to  half  try 
to  be  glad,  either,  for  I  like  best  to  read  to 
myself  —  on  account  of  the  big  words,  you 
know." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,"  rejoined  Miss  Polly,  grimly. 
"  Have  you  studied  music?  " 

"  Not  much.  I  don't  like  my  music  —  I  like 
other  people's,  though.  I  learned  to  play  on  the 
piano  a  little.  Miss  Gray  —  she  plays  for  church  — 
she  taught  me.  But  I'd  just  as  soon  let  that  go  as 
not,  Aunt  Polly.    I'd  rather,  truly." 


68  Pollyanna 

"  Very  likely,''  observed  Aunt  Polly,  with 
slightly  uplifted  eyebrows.  "  Nevertheless  I  think 
it  is  my  duty  to  see  that  you  are  properly  instructed 
in  at  least  the  rudiments  of  music.  You  sew,  of 
course." 

"  Yes,  ma'am."  Pollyanna  sighed.  "  The 
Ladies'  Aid  taught  me  that.  But  I  had  an  awful 
time.  Mrs.  Jones  didn't  believe  in  holding  your 
needle  like  the  rest  of  'em  did  on  buttonholing, 
and  Mrs.  White  thought  backstitching  ought  to  be 
taught  you  before  hemming  (or  else  the  other  way), 
and  Mrs.  Harriman  didn't  believe  in  putting  you  on 
patchwork  ever,  at  all." 

"  Well,  there  will  be  no  difficulty  of  that  kind  any 
longer,  Pollyanna.  I  shall  teach  you  sewing  my- 
self, of  course.  You  do  not  know  how  to  cook,  I 
presume." 

Pollyanna  laughed  suddenly. 

"  They  were  just  beginning  to  teach  me  that  this 
summer,  but  I  hadn't  got  far.  They  were  more 
divided  up  on  that  than  thev  were  on  the  sewing. 
They  were  going  to  begin  on  bread ;  but  there 
wasn't  two  of  'em  that  made  it  alike,  so  after  ar- 
guing it  all  one  sewing-meeting,  they  decided  to 
take  turns  at  me  one  forenoon  a  week  —  in  their 
own  kitchens,  you  know.    I'd  only  learned  chocolate 


A  Question  of  Duty  59 

fudge  and  fig  cake,  though,  when  —  when  I  had  to 
stop."     Her  voice  broke. 

"  Chocolate  fudge  and  fig  cake,  indeed !  "  scorned 
Miss  Polly.  "  I  think  we  can  remedy  that  very 
soon."  She  paused  in  thought  for  a  minute,  then 
went  on  slowly :  "  At  nine  o'clock  every  morning 
you  will  read  aloud  one  half-hour  to  me.  Before 
that  you  will  use  the  time  to  put  this  room  in  order. 
Wednesday  and  Saturday  forenoons,  after  half-past 
nine,  you  will  spend  with  Nancy  in  the  kitchen, 
learning  to  cook.  Other  mornings  you  will  sew  with 
me.  That  will  leave  the  afternoons  for  your  music. 
I  shall,  of  course,  procure  a  teacher  at  once  for 
you,"  she  finished  decisively,  as  she  arose  from  her 
chair. 

Pollyanna  cried  out  in  dismay. 

"  Oh,  but  Aunt  Polly,  Aunt  Polly,  you  haven't 
left  me  any  time  at  all  just  to  —  to  live." 

"To  live,  child!  What  do  you  mean?  As  if 
you  weren't  living  all  the  time!" 

"  Oh,  of  course  I'd  be  breathing  all  the  time  I 
was  doing  those  things,  Aunt  Polly,  but  I  wouldn't 
be  living.  You  breathe  all  the  time  you're  asleep, 
but  you  aren't  living.  I  mean  living  —  doing  the 
things  you  want  to  do :  playing  outdoors,  reading 
(to  myself,  of  course),  climbing  hills,  talking  to  Mr. 


60  Pollyanna 

Tom  in  the  garden,  and  Nancy,  and  finding  out  all 
about  the  houses  and  the  people  and  everything 
everywhere  all  through  the  perfectly  lovely  streets 
I  came  through  yesterday.  That's  what  I  call 
living,  Aunt  Polly.  Just  breathing  isn't  liv- 
ing!" 

Miss  Polly  lifted  her  head  irritably. 

"  Pollyanna,  you  are  the  most  extraordinary 
child!  You  will  be  allowed  a  proper  amount  of 
playtime,  of  course.  But,  surely,  it  seems  to  me  if 
I  am  willing  to  do  my  duty  in  seeing  that  you  have 
proper  care  and  instruction,  you  ought  to  be  willing 
to  do  yours  by  seeing  that  that  care  and  instruction 
are  not  ungratefully  wasted." 

Pollyanna  looked  shocked. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  as  if  I  ever  could  be  un- 
grateful —  to  you!  Why,  I  love  you  —  and 
you  aren't  even  a  Ladies'  Aider;  you're  an 
aunt!" 

"  Very  well ;  then  see  that  you  don't  act  ungrate- 
ful," vouchsafed  Miss  Polly,  as  she  turned  toward 
the  door. 

She  had  gone  halfway  down  the  stairs  when  a 
small,  unsteady  voice  called  after  her: 

"  Please,  Aunt  Polly,  you  didn't  tell  me  which 
of  my  things  you  wanted  to  —  to  give  away." 


A  Question  of  Duty  61 

Aunt  Polly  emitted  a  tired  sigh  —  a  sigh  that 
ascended  straight  to  Pollyanna's  ears. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you,  Pollyanna.  Timothy 
will  drive  us  into  town  at  half -past  one  this  after- 
noon. Not  one  of  your  garments  is  fit  for  my  niece 
to  wear.  Certainly  I  should  be  very  far  from  doing 
my  duty  by  you  if  I  should  let  you  appear  out  in 
any  one  of  them." 

Pollyanna  sighed  now  —  she  believed  she  was 
going  to  hate  that  word  —  duty. 

"  Aunt  Polly,  please,"  she  called  wistfully,  "  isn't 
there  any  way  you  can  be  glad  about  all  that  —  duty 
business?  " 

"  What  ?  "  Miss  Polly  looked  up  in  dazed  sur- 
prise; then,  suddenly,  with  very  red  cheeks,  she 
turned  and  swept  angrily  down  the  stairs.  "  Don't 
be  impertinent,  Pollyanna !  " 

In  the  hot  little  attic  room  Pollyanna  dropped 
herself  on  to  one  of  the  straight-backed  chairs.  To 
her,  existence  loomed  ahead  one  endless  round  of 
duty. 

"  I  don't  see,  really,  what  there  was  impertinent 
about  that,"  she  sighed.  "  I  was  only  asking  her  if 
she  couldn't  tell  me  something  to  be  glad  about  in 
all  that  duty  business." 

For  several  minutes  Pollyanna  sat  in  silence,  her 


62  irollyanna 

rueful  eyes  fixed  on  the  forlorn  heap  of  garments 
on  the  bed.  Then,  slowly,  she  rose  and  began  to 
put  away  the  dresses. 

'  There  just  isn't  anything  to  be  glad  about,  that 
I  can  see,"  she  said  aloud ;  "  unless  —  it's  to  be  glad 
when  the  duty's  done !  "  Whereupon  she  laughed 
suddenly. 


CHAPTER   VII 

POLLYANNA   AND   PUNISHMENTS 

At  half-past  one  o'clock  Timothy  drove  Miss- 
Polly  and  her  niece  to  the  four  or  five  principal  dry- 
goods  stores,  which  were  about  half  a  mile  fromi 
the  homestead. 

Fitting  Pollyanna  with  a  new  wardrobe  proved 
to  be  more  or  less  of  an  exciting  experience  for  all 
concerned.  Miss  Polly  came  out  of  it  with  the  feel- 
ing of  limp  relaxation  that  one  might  have  at  find- 
ing oneself  at  last  on  solid  earth  after  a  perilous 
walk  across  the  very  thin  crust  of  a  volcano.  The 
various  clerks  who  had  waited  upon  the  pair  came 
out  of  it  with  very  red  faces,  and  enough  amusing 
stories  of  Pollyanna  to  keep  their  friends  in  gales 
of  laughter  the  rest  of  the  week.  Pollyanna  herself 
came  out  of  it  with  radiant  smiles  and  a  heart  con- 
tent ;  for,  as  she  expressed  it  to  one  of  the  clerks : 
"  When  you  haven't  had  anybody  but  missionary 
barrels  and  Ladies'  Aiders  to  dress  you,  it  is  per- 
fectly lovely  to  just  walk  right  in  and  buy  clothes 


64  Pollyanna 

that  are  brand-new,  and  that  don't  have  to  be  tucked 
up  or  let  down  because  they  don't  fit !  " 

The  shopping  expedition  consumed  the  entire 
afternoon;  then  came  supper  and  a  delightful  talk 
with  Old  Tom  in  the  garden,  and  another  with 
Nancy  on  the  back  porch,  after  the  dishes  were  done, 
and  while  Aunt  Polly  paid  a  visit  to  a  neighbor. 

Old  Tom  told  Pollyanna  wonderful  things  of  her 
mother,  that  made  her  very  happy  indeed;  and 
Nancy  told  her  all  about  the  little  farm  six  miles 
away  at  "  The  Corners,"  where  lived  her  own  dear 
mother,  and  her  equally  dear  brother  and  sisters. 
She  promised,  too,  that  sometime,  *x  Miss  Polly 
were  willing,  Pollyanna  should  be  taken  to  see  them. 

"  And  they've  got  lovely  names,  too.  You'll  like 
their  names,"  sighed  Nancy.  "  They're  '  Algernon,' 
and  '  Florabelle  '  and  '  Estelle.'  I  —  I  just  hate 
'  Nancy  ' !  " 

"Oh,  Nancy,  what  a  dreadful  thing  to  say! 
Why?" 

"  Because  it  isn't  pretty  like  the  others.  You  see, 
I  was  the  first  baby,  and  mother  hadn't  begun  ter 
read  so  many  stories  with  the  pretty  names  in  'em, 
then." 

"  But  I  love  '  Nancy,'  just  because  it's  you,"  de- 
clared Pollyanna. 


Pollyanna  and  Punishments         65 

"  Humph !  Well,  I  guess  you  could  love  '  Cla- 
rissa Mabelle  '  just  as  well,"  retorted  Nancy,  "  and 
it  would  be  a  heap  happier  for  me.  I  think  that 
name's  just  grand !  " 

Pollyanna  laughed. 

"  Well,  anyhow,"  she  chuckled,  "  you  can  be  glad 
it  isn't  *  Hephzibah.'  " 

"Hephzibah!" 

"  Yes.  Mrs.  White's  name  is  that.  Her  husband 
calls  her  '  Hep,'  and  she  doesn't  like  it.  She  says 
when  he  calls  out  '  Hep  —  Hep! '  she  feels  just  as 
if  the  next  minute  he  was  going  to  yell  '  Hurrah! ' 
And  she  doesn't  like  to  be  hurrahed  at." 

Nancy's  gloomy  face  relaxed  into  a  broad  smile. 

"  Well,  if  you  don't  beat  the  Dutch !  Say,  do  you 
know?  —  I  sha'n't  never  hear  '  Nancy  '  now  that  I 
don't  think  o'  that '  Hep  —  Hep ! '  and  giggle.  My, 
I  guess  I  am  glad  — "  She  stopped  short  and 
turned  amazed  eyes  on  the  little  girl.  "  Say,  Miss 
Pollyanna,  do  you  mean  —  was  you  playin'  that  'ere 
game  then  —  about  my  bein'  glad  I  wa'n't  named 
4  Hephzibah'?" 

Pollyanna  frowned ;  then  she  laughed. 

"  Why,  Nancy,  that's  so !  I  ufas  playing  the  game 
—  but  that's  one  of  the  times  I  just  did  it  without 
thinking,  I  reckon.    You  see,  you  do,  lots  of  times ; 


66  Pollyanna 

you  get  so  used  to  it  —  looking  for  something  to 
be  glad  about,  you  know.  And  most  generally  there 
is  something  about  everything  that  you  can  be  glad 
about,  if  you  keep  hunting  long  enough  to  find  it." 
"  Well,  m-maybe,"  granted  Nancy,  with  open 
doubt. 

At  half-past  eight  Pollyanna  went  up  to  bed. 
The  screens  had  not  yet  come,  and  the  close  little 
room  was  like  an  oven.  With  longing  eyes  Polly- 
anna looked  at  the  two  fast-closed  windows  —  but 
she  did  not  raise  them.  She  undressed,  folded  her 
clothes  neatly,  said  her  prayers,  blew  out  her  candle 
and  climbed  into  bed. 

Just  how  long  she  lay  in  sleepless  misery,  tossing 
from  side  to  side  of  the  hot  little  cot,  she  did  not 
know;  but  it  seemed  to  her  that  it  must  have  been 
hours  before  she  finally  slipped  out  of  bed,  felt  her 
way  across  the  room  and  opened  her  door. 

Out  in  the  main  attic  all  was  velvet  blackness  save 
where  the  moon  flung  a  path  of  silver  half-way 
across  the  floor  from  the  east  dormer  window. 
With  a  resolute  ignoring  of  that  fearsome  darkness 
to  the  right  and  to  the  left,  Pollyanna  drew  a  quick 
breath  and  pattered  straight  into  that  silvery  path, 
and  on  to  the  window. 


Pollyanna  and  Punishments  67 

She  had  hoped,  vaguely,  that  this  window  might 
have  a  screen,  but  it  did  not.  Outside,  however, 
there  was  a  wide  world  of  fairy-like  beauty,  and 
there  was,  too,  she  knew,  fresh,  sweet  air  that  would 
feel  so  good  to  hot  cheeks  and  hands ! 

As  she  stepped  nearer  and  peered  longingly  out, 
she  saw  something  else :  she  saw,  only  a  little  way 
below  the  window,  the  wide,  flat  tin  roof  of  Miss 
Polly's  sun  parlor  built  over  the  porte-cochere.  The 
sight  filled  her  with  longing.  If  only,  now,  she 
were  out  there ! 

Fearfully  she  looked  behind  her.  Back  there, 
somewhere,  were  her  hot  little  room  and  her  still 
hotter  bed ;  but  between  her  and  them  lay  a  horrid 
desert  of  blackness  across  which  one  must  feel  one's 
way  with  outstretched,  shrinking  arms;  while  be- 
fore her,  out  on  the  sun-parlor  roof,  were  the  moon- 
light and  the  cool,  sweet  night  air. 

If  only  her  bed  were  out  there!  And  folks  did 
sleep  out  of  doors.  Joel  Hartley  at  home,  who  was 
so  sick  with  the  consumption,  had  to  sleep  out  of 
doors. 

Suddenly  Pollyanna  remembered  that  she  had 
seen  near  this  attic  window  a  row  of  long  white 
bags  hanging  from  nails.  Nancy  had  said  that 
they  contained  the  winter  clothing,  put  away  for 


68  Pollyanna 

the  summer.  A  little  fearfully  now,  Pollyanna  felt 
her  way  to  these  bags,  selected  a  nice  fat  soft  one 
(it  contained  Miss  Polly's  sealskin  coat)  for  a  bed; 
and  a  thinner  one  to  be  doubled  up  for  a  pillow, 
and  still  another  (which  was  so  thin  it  seemed  al- 
most empty)  for  a  covering.  Thus  equipped,  Polly- 
anna in  high  glee  pattered  to  the  moonlit  window 
again,  raised  the  sash,  stuffed  her  burden  through 
to  the  roof  below,  then  let  herself  down  after  it, 
closing  the  window  carefully  behind  her  —  Polly- 
anna had  not  forgotten  those  flies  with  the  marvel- 
lous feet  that  carried  things. 

How  deliciously  cool  it  was!  Pollyanna  quite 
danced  up  and  down  with  delight,  drawing  in  long, 
full  breaths  of  the  refreshing  air.  The  tin  roof 
under  her  feet  crackled  with  little  resounding  snaps 
that  Pollyanna  rather  liked.  She  walked,  indeed, 
two  or  three  times  back  and  forth  from  end  to  end 
—  it  gave  her  such  a  pleasant  sensation  of  airy 
space  after  her  hot  little  room;  and  the  roof  was 
so  broad  and  flat  that  she  had  no  fear  of  falling  off. 
Finally,  with  a  sigh  of  content,  she  curled  herself 
up  on  the  sealskin-coat  mattress,  arranged  one  bag 
for  a  pillow  and  the  other  for  a  covering,  and  set- 
tled herself  to  sleep. 

"  I'm  so  glad  now  that  the  screens  didn't  come," 


Pollyanna  and  Punishments         69 

she  murmured,  blinking  up  at  the  stars ;  "  else  I 
couldn't  have  had  this !  " 

Down-stairs  in  Miss  Polly's  room  next  the  sun 
parlor,  Miss  Polly  herself  was  hurrying  into  dress- 
ing gown  and  slippers,  her  face  white  and  fright- 
ened. A  minute  before  she  had  been  telephoning 
in  a  shaking  voice  to  Timothy : 

"  Come  up  quick !  —  you  and  your  father.  Bring 
lanterns.  Somebody  is  on  the  roof  of  the  sun  par- 
lor. He  must  have  climbed  up  the  rose-trellis  or 
somewhere,  and  of  course  he  can  get  right  into  the 
house  through  the  east  window  in  the  attic.  I  have 
locked  the  attic  door  down  here  —  but  hurry, 
quick!" 

Some  time  later,  Pollyanna,  just  dropping  off  to 
sleep,  was  startled  by  a  lantern  flash,  and  a  trio  of 
amazed  ejaculations.  She  opened  her  eyes  to  find 
Timothy  at  the  top  of  a  ladder  near  her,  Old  Tom 
just  getting  through  the  window,  and  her  aunt  peer- 
ing out  at  her  from  behind  him. 

"  Pollyanna,  what  does  this  mean  ?  "  cried  Aunt 
Polly  then. 

Pollyanna  blinked  sleepy  eyes  and  sat  up. 

"Why,  Mr.  Tom  — Aunt  Polly!"  she  stam- 
mered. "  Don't  look  so  scared !  It  isn't  that  I've 
got  the  consumption,  you  know,  like  Joel  Hartley. 


tfO  Pollyanna 


It's  only  that  I  was  so  hot  —  in  there.  But  I  shut 
the  window,  Aunt  Polly,  so  the  flies  couldn't  carry 
those  germ-things  in." 

Timothy  disappeared  suddenly  down  the  ladder. 
Old  Tom,  with  almost  equal  precipitation,  handed 
his  lantern  to  Miss  Polly,  and  followed  his  son. 
Miss  Polly  bit  her  lip  hard  —  until  the  men  were 
gone ;   then  she  said  sternly  : 

"  Pollyanna,  hand  those  things  to  me  at  once  and 
come  in  here.  Of  all  the  extraordinary  children !  " 
she  ejaculated  a  little  later,  as,  with  Pollyanna  by 
her  side,  and  the  lantern  in  her  hand,  she  turned 
back  into  the  attic. 

To  Pollyanna  the  air  was  all  the  more  stifling 
after  that  cool  breath  of  the  out  of  doors;  but  she 
did  not  complain.  She  only  drew  a  long  quivering 
sigh. 

At  the  top  of  the  stairs  Miss  Polly  jerked  out 
crisply : 

"  For  the  rest  of  the  night,  Pollyanna,  you  are 
to  sleep  in  my  bed  with  me.  The  screens  will  be 
here  to-morrow,  but  until  then  I  consider  it  my  duty 
to  keep  you  where  I  know  where  you  are." 

Pollyanna  drew  in  her  breath. 

"  With  you  ?  —  in  your  bed  ?  "  she  cried  raptur- 
ously.    "  Oh,   Aunt   Polly,   Aunt  Polly,   how  per- 


Pollyanna  and  Punishments  71 

fectly  lovely  of  you!  And  when  I've  so  wanted  to 
sleep  with  some  one  sometime  —  some  one  that  be- 
longed to  me,  you  know  ;  not  a  Ladies'  Aider.  I've 
had  them.  My!  I  reckon  I  am  glad  now  those 
screens  didn't  come !    Wouldn't  you  be  ?  " 

There  was  no  reply.  Miss  Polly  was  stalking  on 
ahead.  Miss  Polly,  to  tell  the  truth,  was  feeling 
curiously  helpless.  For  the  third  time  since  Polly- 
anna's  arrival,  Miss  Polly  was  punishing  Pollyanna 
■ —  and  for  the  third  time  she  was  being  confronted 
with  the  amazing  fact  that  her  punishment  was 
being  taken  as  a  special  reward  of  merit.  No  won- 
der Miss  Polly  was  feeling  curiously  helpless. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

POLLYANNA   PAYS   A   VISIT 

It  was  not  long  before  life  at  the  Harrington 
homestead  settled  into  something  like  order  — 
though  not  exactly  the  order  that  Miss  Polly  had 
at  first  prescribed.  Pollyanna  sewed,  practised,  read 
aloud,  and  studied  cooking  in  the  kitchen,  it  is  true ; 
but  she  did  not  give  to  any  of  these  things  quite 
so  much  time  as  had  first  been  planned.  She  had 
more  time,  also,  to  "  just  live,"  as  she  expressed 
it,  for  almost  all  of  every  afternoon  from  two  until 
six  o'clock  was  hers  to  do  with  as  she  liked  —  pro- 
vided she  did  not  "  like  "  to  do  certain  things  al- 
ready prohibited  by  Aunt  Polly. 

It  is  a  question,  perhaps,  whether  all  this  leisure 
time  was  given  to  the  child  as  a  relief  to  Pollyanna 
from  work  —  or  as  a  relief  to  Aunt  Polly  from 
Pollyanna.  Certainly,  as  those  first  July  days 
passed,  Miss  Polly  found  occasion  many  times  to 
ejaculate  "  What  an  extraordinary  child  I  "  and  cer- 
tainly the  reading  and  sewing  lessons  found  her  at 

72 


Pollyanna  Pays  a  Visit  73 

their  conclusion  each  day  somewhat  dazed  and 
wholly  exhausted. 

Nancy,  in  the  kitchen,  fared  better.  She  was 
not  dazed  nor  exhausted.  Wednesdays  and  Satur- 
days came  to  be,  indeed,  red-letter  days  to  her. 

There  were  no  children  in  the  immediate  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Harrington  homestead  for  Polly- 
anna to  play  with.  The  house  itself  was  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  village,  and  though  there  were  other 
houses  not  far  away,  they  did  not  chance  to  contain 
any  boys  or  girls  near  Pollyanna's  age.  This,  how- 
ever, did  not  seem  to  disturb  Pollyanna  in  the  least. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  don't  mind  it  at  all,"  she  explained 
to  Nancy.  "  I'm  happy  just  to  walk  around  and 
see  the  streets  and  the  houses  and  watch  the  people. 
I  just  love  people.    Don't  you,  Nancy?  " 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  I  do  —  all  of  'em,"  retorted 
Nancy,  tersely. 

Almost  every  pleasant  afternoon  found  Pollyanna 
begging  for  "  an  errand  to  run,"  so  that  she  might 
be  off  for  a  walk  in  one  direction  or  another;  and 
it  was  on  these  walks  that  frequently  she  met  the 
Man.  To  herself  Pollyanna  always  called  him  "  the 
Man,"  no  matter  if  she  met  a  dozen  other  men  the 
same  day. 

The  Man  often  wore  a  long  black  coat  and  a  high 


74  Pollyanna 

silk  hat  —  two  things  that  the  "  just  men  "  never 
wore.  His  face  was  clean  shaven  and  rather  pale, 
and  his  hair,  showing  below  his  hat,  was  somewhat 
gray.  He  walked  erect,  and  rather  rapidly,  and  he 
was  always  alone,  which  made  Pollyanna  vaguely 
sorry  for  him.  Perhaps  it  was  because  of  this  that 
she  one  day  spoke  to  him. 

"  Plow  do  you  do,  sir?  Isn't  this  a  nice  day?  " 
she  called  cheerily,  as  she  approached  him. 

The  man  threw  a  hurried  glance  about  him,  then 
stopped  uncertainly. 

"  Did  you  speak  —  to  me?  "  he  asked  in  a  sharp 
voice. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  beamed  Pollyanna.  "  I  say,  it's  a  nice 
day,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Eh  ?  Oh !  Humph !  "  he  grunted ;  and  strode 
on  again. 

Pollyanna  laughed.  He  was  such  a  funny  man, 
she  thought. 

The  next  day  she  saw  him  again. 

"  'Tisn't  quite  so  nice  as  yesterday,  but  it's  pretty 
nice,"  she  called  out  cheerfully. 

"  Eh  ?  Oh  !  Humph  !  "  grunted  the  man  as  be- 
fore;  and  once  again  Pollyanna  laughed  happily. 

When  for  the  third  time  Pollyanna  accosted  him 
;n  much  the  same  manner,  the  man  stopped  abruptly, 


Pollyanna  Pays  a  Visit  75 

"  See  here,  child,  who  are  you,  and  why  are  you 
speaking  to  me  every  day?  " 

"  I'm  Pollyanna  Whittier,  and  I  thought  you 
looked  lonesome.  I'm  so  glad  you  stopped.  Now 
we're  introduced  —  only  I  don't  know  your  name 
yet. 

''Well,  of  all  the  —  "  The  man  did  not  finish 
his  sentence,  but  strode  on  faster  than  ever. 

Pollyanna  looked  after  him  with  a  disappointed 
droop  to  her  usually  smiling  lips. 

"  Maybe  he  didn't  understand  —  but  that  was 
only  half  an  introduction.  I  don't  know  his  name, 
yet,"  she  murmured,  as  she  proceeded  on  her  way. 

Pollyanna  was  carrying  calf's-foot  jelly  to  Mrs. 
Snow  to-day.  Miss  Polly  Harrington  always  sent 
something  to  Mrs.  Snow  once  a  week.  She  said 
she  thought  that  it  was  her  duty,  inasmuch  as  Mrs. 
Snow  was  poor,  sick,  and  a  member  of  her  church 

—  it  was  the  duty  of  all  the  church  members  to 
look  out  for  her,  of  course.  Miss  Polly  did  her 
duty  by  Mrs.  Snow  usually  on  Thursday  afternoons 

—  not  personally,  but  through  Nancy.  To-day 
Pollyanna  had  begged  the  privilege,  and  Nancy  had 
promptly  given  it  to  her  in  accordance  with  Miss 
Polly's  orders. 

"  And  it's  glad  that  I  am  ter  get  rid  of  it,"  Nancy 


76  Pollyanna 

had  declared  in  private  afterwards  to  Pollyanna; 
"  though  it's  a  shame  ter  be  tuckin'  the  job  off  on 
ter  you,  poor  lamb,  so  it  is,  it  is !  " 

"  But  I'd  love  to  do  it,  Nancy." 

"  Well,  you  won't  —  after  you've  done  it  once," 
predicted  Nancy,  sourly. 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  nobody  does.  If  folks  wa'n't  sorry  for 
her  there  wouldn't  a  soul  go  near  her  from  mornin' 
till  night,  she's  that  cantankerous.  All  is,  I  pity 
her  daughter  what  has  ter  take  care  of  her." 

"  But,  why,  Nancy  ?  " 

Nancy  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  Well,  in  plain  words,  it's  just  that  nothin'  what 
ever  has  happened,  has  happened  right  in  Mis' 
Snow's  eyes.  Even  the  days  of  the  week  ain't  run 
ter  her  mind.  If  it's  Monday  she's  bound  ter  say 
she  wished  'twas  Sunday;  and  if  you  take  her  jelly 
you're  pretty  sure  ter  hear  she  wanted  chicken  — 
but  if  you  did  bring  her  chicken,  she'd  be  jest  hank- 
erin'  for  lamb  broth !  " 

"  Why,  what  a  funny  woman,"  laughed  Polly- 
anna. "  I  think  I  shall  like  to  go  to  see  her.  She 
must  be  so  surprising  and  —  and  different.  I  love 
different  folks." 

"Humph!     Well,   Mis'    Snow's   'different,'   all 


Pollyanna  Pays  a  Visit  77 

right  —  I  hope,  for  the  sake  of  the  rest  of  us!" 
Nancy  had  finished  grimly. 

Pollyanna  was  thinking  of  these  remarks  to-day 
as  she  turned  in  at  the  gate  of  the  shabby  little  cot- 
tage. Her  eyes  were  quite  sparkling,  indeed,  at  the 
prospect  of  meeting  this  "  different "  Mrs.  Snow. 

A  pale-faced,  tired-looking  young  girl  answered 
her  knock  at  the  door. 

"How  do  you  do?"  began  Pollyanna  politely. 
"  I'm  from  Miss  Polly  Harrington,  and  I'd  like  to 
see  Mrs.  Snow,  please." 

"  Well,  if  you  would,  you're  the  first  one  that 
ever  '  liked  '  to  see  her,"  muttered  the  girl  under 
her  breath;  but  Pollyanna  did  not  hear  this.  The 
girl  had  turned  and  was  leading  the  way  through 
the  hall  to  a  door  at  the  end  of  it. 

In  the  sick-room,  after  the  girl  had  ushered  her 
in  and  closed  the  door,  Pollyanna  blinked  a  little 
before  she  could  accustom  her  eyes  to  the  gloom. 
Then  she  saw,  dimly  outlined,  a  woman  half-sitting 
up  in  the  bed  across  the  room.  Pollyanna  advanced 
at  once. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Snow?  Aunt  Polly  says 
she  hopes  you  are  comfortable  to-day,  and  she's 
sent  you  some  calf's-foot  jelly." 

"Dear  me!     Jelly?"  murmured  a  fretful  voice. 


78  Pollyanna 

"  Of  course  I'm  very  much  obliged,  but  I  was 
hoping  'twould  be  lamb  broth  to-day." 

Pollyanna  frowned  a  little. 

"  Why,  I  thought  it  was  chicken  you  wanted  when 
folks  brought  you  jelly,"  she  said. 

"  What?  "     The  sick  woman  turned  sharply. 

"  Why,  nothing,  much,"  apologized  Pollyanna, 
hurriedly;  "and  of  course  it  doesn't  really  make 
any  difference.  It's  only  that  Nancy  said  it  was 
chicken  you  wanted  when  we  brought  jelly,  and 
lam.D  broth  when  we  brought  chicken  —  but  maybe 
'twas  the  other  way,  and  Nancy  forgot." 

The  sick  woman  pulled  herself  up  till  she  sat 
erect  in  the  bed  —  a  most  unusual  thing  for  her  to 
do,  though  Pollyanna  did  not  know  this. 

"Well,  Miss  Impertinence,  who  are  you?"  she 
demanded. 

Pollyanna  laughed  gleefully. 

"  Oh.  that  isn't  my  name,  Mrs.  Snow  —  and  I'm 
so  glad  'tisn't,  too !  That  would  be  worse  than 
'  Hephzibah,'  wouldn't  it?  I'm  Pollyanna  Whittier, 
Miss  Polly  Harrington's  niece,  and  I've  come  to 
live  with  her.  That's  why  I'm  here  with  the  jelly 
this  morning." 

All  through  the  first  part  of  this  sentence,  the 
sick  woman  had  sat  interestedly  erect;    but  at  the 


PoIIyanna  Pays  a  Visit  79 

reference  to  the  jelly  she  fell  back  on  her  pillow 
listlessly. 

"  Very  well ;  thank  you.  Your  aunt  is  very  kind, 
of  course,  but  my  appetite  isn't  very  good  this  morn- 
ing, and  I  was  wanting  lamb  — "  She  stopped 
suddenly,  then  went  on  with  an  abrupt  change  of 
subject.  "  I  never  slept  a  wink  last  night  —  not  a 
wink !  " 

"  O  dear,  I  wish  /  didn't,"  sighed  PoIIyanna, 
placing  the  jelly  on  the  little  stand  and  seating  her- 
self comfortably  in  the  nearest  chair.  "  You  lose 
such  a  lot  of  time  just  sleeping!  Don't  you  think 
so?" 

"  Lose  time  —  sleeping !  "  exclaimed  the  sick 
woman. 

"  Yes,  when  you  might  be  just  living,  you  know. 
It  seems  such  a  pity  we  can't  live  nights,  too." 

Once  again  the  woman  pulled  herself  erect  in  her 
bed. 

"  Well,  if  you  ain't  the  amazing  young  one !  " 
she  cried.  "  Here !  do  you  go  to  that  window  and 
pull  up  the  curtain,"  she  directed.  "  I  should  like 
to  know  what  you  look  like !  " 

PoIIyanna  rose  to  her  feet,  but  she  laughed  a 
little  ruefully. 

"  O   dear !     then   you'll   see   my    freckles,    won't 


80  Pollyanna 

you?"  she  sighed,  as  she  went  to  the  window; 
"  —  and  just  when  I  was  being  so  glad  it  was  dark 
and  you  couldn't  see  'em.  There!  Now  you  can 
—  oh!  "  she  broke  off  excitedly,  as  she  turned  back 
to  the  bed ;  "  I'm  so  glad  you  wanted  to  see  me, 
because  now  I  can  see  you!  They  didn't  tell  me 
you  were  so  pretty !  " 

"  Me !  —  pretty !  "  scoffed  the  woman,  bitterly. 

"  Why,  yes.  Didn't  you  know  it  ?  "  cried  Polly- 
anna. 

"  Well,  no,  I  didn't,"  retorted  Mrs.  Snow,  dryly. 
Mrs.  Snow  had  lived  forty  years,  and  for  fifteen 
of  those  years  she  had  been  too  busy  wishing  things 
were  different  to  find  much  time  to  enjoy  things  as 
they  were. 

"  Oh,  but  your  eyes  are  so  big  and  dark,  and  your 
hair's  all  dark,  too,  and  curly,"  cooed  Pollyanna. 
"  I  love  black  curls.  (That's  one  of  the  things  I'm 
going  to  have  when  I  get  to  Heaven.)  And  you've 
got  two  little  red  spots  in  your  cheeks.  Why,  Mrs. 
Snow,  you  are  pretty!  I  should  think  you'd  know 
it  when  you  looked  at  yourself  in  the  glass." 

"The  glass!"  snapped  the  sick  woman,  falling 
back  on  her  pillow.  "  Yes,  well,  I  hain't  done  much 
prinkin'  before  the  mirror  these  days  —  and  you 
wouldn't,  if  you  was  flat  on  your  back  as  I  am !  " 


Pollyanna  Pays  a  Visit  81 

"  Why,  no,  of  course  not,"  agreed  Pollyanna, 
sympathetically.  "  But  wait  —  just  let  me  show 
you,"  she  exclaimed,  skipping  over  to  the  bureau 
and  picking  up  a  small  hand-glass. 

On  the  way  back  to  the  bed  she  stopped,  eyeing 
the  sick  woman  with  a  critical  gaze. 

"  I  reckon  maybe,  if  you  don't  mind,  I'd  like  to 
fix  your  hair  just  a  little  before  I  let  you  see  it," 
she  proposed.    "  May  I  fix  your  hair,  please?  " 

"  Why,  I  —  suppose  so,  if  you  want  to,"  per- 
mitted Mrs.  Snow,  grudgingly ;  "  but  'twon't  stay, 
you  know." 

"  Oh,  thank  you.  I  love  to  fix  people's  hair," 
exulted  Pollyanna,  carefully  laying  down  the  hand- 
glass and  reaching  for  a  comb.  "  I  sha'n't  do  much 
to-day,  of  course  —  I'm  in  such  a  hurry  for  you  to 
see  how  pretty  you  are;  but  some  day  I'm  going 
to  take  it  all  down  and  have  a  perfectly  lovely  time 
with  it,"  she  cried,  touching  with  soft  fingers  the 
waving  hair  above  the  sick  woman's  forehead. 

For  five  minutes  Pollyanna  worked  swiftly, 
deftly,  combing  a  refractory  curl  into  fluffiness, 
perking  up  a  drooping  ruffle  at  the  neck,  or  shaking 
a  pillow  into  plumpness  so  that  the  head  might  have 
a  better  pose.  Meanwhile  the  sick  woman,  frown- 
ing prodigiously,  and  openly  scoffing  at  the  whole 


82  Pollyanna 

procedure,  was,  in  spite  of  herself,  beginning  to 
tingle  with  a  feeling  perilously  near  to  excite- 
ment. 

"  There !  "  panted  Pollyanna,  hastily  plucking  a 
pink  from  a  vase  near  by  and  tucking  it  into  the 
dark  hair  where  it  would  give  the  best  effect. 
"  Now  I  reckon  we're  ready  to  be  looked  at !  "  And 
she  held  out  the  mirror  in  triumph. 

"  Humph!  "  grunted  the  sick  woman,  eyeing  her 
reflection  severely.  "  I  like  red  pinks  better  than 
pink  ones;  but  then,  it'll  fade,  anyhow,  before 
night,  so  what's  the  difference!  " 

"  But  I  should  think  you'd  be  glad  they  did  fade," 
laughed  Pollyanna,  "  'cause  then  you  can  have  the 
fun  of  getting  some  more.  I  just  love  your  hair 
fluffed  out  like  that,"  she  finished  with  a  satisfied 
gaze.    "Don't  you?" 

"  Hm-m ;  maybe.  Still  —  'twon't  last,  with  me 
tossing  back  and  forth  on  the  pillow  as  I  do." 

"Of  course  not  —  and  I'm  glad,  too,"  nodded 
Pollyanna,  cheerfully,  "  because  then  I  can  fix  it 
again.  Anyhow,  I  should  think  you'd  be  glad  it's 
black  —  black  shows  up  so  much  nicer  on  a  pillow 
than  yellow  hair  like  mine  does." 

"  Maybe ;  but  I  never  did  set  much  store  by  black 
hair  —  shows  gray  too  soon,"  retorted  Mrs.  Snow. 


Polly  anna  Pays  a  Visit 


She  spoke  fretfully,  but  she  still  held  the  mirror 
before  her  face. 

"  Oh,  I  love  black  hair!  I  should  be  so  glad  if 
I  only  had  it,"  sighed  Pollyanna. 

Mrs.  Snow  dropped  the  mirror  and  turned  irri- 
tably. 

"  Well,  you  wouldn't !  —  not  if  you  were  me. 
You  wouldn't  be  glad  for  black  hair  nor  anything 
else  —  if  you  had  to  lie  here  all  day  as  I  do !  " 

Pollyanna  bent  her  brows  in  a  thoughtful  frown. 

"  Why,  'twould  be  kind  of  hard  —  to  do  it  then, 
wouldn't  it?  "  she  mused  aloud. 

"Do  what?" 

"  Be  glad  about  things.1' 

"  Be  glad  about  things  —  when  you're  sick  in 
bed  all  your  days?  Well,  I  should  say  it  would," 
retorted  Mrs.  Snow.  "  If  you  don't  think  so,  just 
tell  me  something  to  be  glad  about ;   that's  all !  " 

To  Mrs.  Snow's  unbounded  amazement,  Polly- 
anna sprang  to  her  feet  and  clapped  her  hands. 

"  Oh,  goody!  That'll  be  a  hard  one  —  won't  it? 
I've  got  to  go,  now,  but  I'll  think  and  think  all  the 
way  home;  and  maybe  the  next  time  I  come  I  can 
tell  it  to  you.  Good-by.  I've  had  a  lovely  time! 
Good-by,"  she  called  again,  as  she  tripped  through 
'.he  doorway. 


84  Pollyanna 

— a 

"  Well,  I  never !     Now,  what  does  she  mean  by 

that?  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Snow,  staring  after  her  vis* 

itor.     By  and  by  she  turned  her  head  and  picked 

up  the  mirror,  eyeing  her  reflection  critically. 

"  That  little  thing  has  got  a  knack  with  hair  — 
and  no  mistake,"  she  muttered  under  her  breath. 
"  I  declare,  I  didn't  know  it  could  look  so  pretty. 
But  then,  what's  the  use?"  she  sighed,  dropping 
the  little  glass  into  the  bedclothes,  and  rolling  her 
head  on  the  pillow  fretfully. 

A  little  later,  when  Milly,  Mrs.  Snow's  daughter, 
came  in,  the  mirror  still  lay  among  the  bedclothes 

—  though    it    had    been    carefully    hidden    from 
sight. 

"  Why,  mother  —  the  curtain  is  up !  "  cried  Milly, 
dividing  her  amazed  stare  between  the  window  and 
the  pink  in  her  mother's  hair. 

"  Well,  what  if  it  is  ?  "  snapped  the  sick  woman. 
'  I  needn't  stay  in  the  dark  all  my  life,  if  I  am  sick, 
need  I  ?  " 

"  Why,  n-no,  of  course  not,"  rejoined  Milly,  in 
hasty  conciliation,  as  she  reached  for  the  medicine 
bottle.  "  It's  only  —  well,  you  know  very  well  that 
I've  tried  to  get  you  to  have  a  lighter  room  for  ages 

—  and  you  wouldn't." 

There  was  no  reply  to  this.    Mrs.  Snow  was  pick- 


Pollyanna  Pays  a  Visit  85 

ing  at  the  lace  on  her  nightgown.  At  last  she  spoke 
fretfully. 

"  I  should  think  somebody  might  give  me  a  new 
nightdress  —  instead  of  lamb  broth,  for  a  change !  " 

"Why  — mother!" 

No  wonder  Milly  quite  gasped  aloud  with  bewil- 
derment. In  the  drawer  behind  her  at  that  moment 
lay  two  new  nightdresses  that  Milly  for  months  had 
been  vainly  urging  her  mother  to  wear. 


CHAPTER    IX 

WHICH    TELLS    OF   THE    MAN 

It  rained  the  next  time  Pollyanna  saw  the  Man. 
She  greeted  him,  however,  with  a  bright  smile. 

"  It  isn't  so  nice  to-day,  is  it?  "  she  called  blithe- 
somely.  "  I'm  glad  it  doesn't  rain  always,  any- 
how!" 

The  man  did  not  even  grunt  this  time,  nor  turn 
his  head.  Pollyanna  decided  that  of  course  he  did 
not  hear  her.  The  next  time,  therefore  (which 
happened  to  be  the  following  day),  she  spoke  up 
louder.  She  thought  it  particularly  necessary  to 
do  this,  anyway,  for  the  Man  was  striding  along, 
his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  his  eyes  on  the 
ground  —  which  seemed,  to  Pollyanna,  preposterous 
in  the  face  of  the  glorious  sunshine  and  the  freshly- 
washed  morning  air:  Pollyanna,  as  a  special  treat, 
was  on  a  morning  errand  to-day. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  "  she  chirped.  "  I'm  so  glad 
it  isn't  yesterday,  aren't  you  ?  " 

86 


Which  Tells  of  the  Man  87 

*  -        - 

The  man  stopped  abruptly.  There  was  an  angry 
scowl  on  his  face. 

"  See  here,  little  girl,  we  might  just  as  well  settle 
this  thing  right  now,  once  for  all,"  he  began  testily. 
"  I've  got  something  besides  the  weather  to  think 
of.     I  don't  know  whether  the  sun  shines  or  not." 

Pollyanna  beamed  joyously. 

"  No,  sir;  I  thought  you  didn't.  That's  why  I 
told  you." 

"Yes;  well—  Eh?  What?"  he  broke  off 
sharply,  in  sudden  understanding  of  her  words. 

"  I  say,  that's  why  I  told  you  —  so  you  would 
notice  it,  you  know  —  that  the  sun  shines,  and  all 
that.  I  knew  you'd  be  glad  it  did  if  you  only 
stopped  to  think  of  it  —  and  you  didn't  look  a  bit 
as  if  you  were  thinking  of  it !  " 

"  Well,  of  all  the  —  "  ejaculated  the  man,  with 
an  oddly  impotent  gesture.  He  started  forward 
again,  but  after  the  second  step  he  turned  back,  still 
frowning. 

"  See  here,  why  don't  you  find  some  one  your 
own  age  to  talk  to  ?  " 

"  I'd  like  to,  sir,  but  there  aren't  any  'round  here. 
Nancy  says.  Still,  I  don't  mind  so  very  much.  I 
like  old  folks  just  as  well,  maybe  better,  sometimes 
—  being  used  to  the  Ladies'  Aid,  so." 


88  Pollyanna 

"  Humph !  The  Ladies'  Aid,  indeed !  Is  that 
what  you  took  me  for?"  The  man's  lips  were 
threatening  to  smile,  but  the  scowl  above  them  was 
still  trying  to  hold  them  grimly  stern. 

Pollyanna  laughed  gleefully. 

"  Oh,  no,  sir.  You  don't  look  a  mite  like  a  La- 
dies' Aider  —  not  but  that  you're  just  as  good,  of 
course  —  maybe  better,"  she  added  in  hurried  po- 
liteness. "  You  see,  I'm  sure  you're  much  nicer 
than  you  look !  " 

The  man  made  a  queer  noise  in  his  throat. 

"  Well,  of  all  the  —  "  he  ejaculated  again,  as  he 
turned  and  strode  on  as  before. 

The  next  time  Pollyanna  met  the  Man,  his  eyes 
were  gazing  straight  into  hers,  with  a  quizzical  di- 
rectness that  made  his  face  look  really  pleasant, 
Pollyanna  thought. 

"  Good  afternoon,"  he  greeted  her  a  little  stiffly. 
"  Perhaps  I'd  better  say  right  away  that  I  know  the 
sun  is  shining  to-day." 

"  But  you  don't  have  to  tell  me,"  nodded  Polly- 
anna, brightly.  "  I  knew  you  knew  it  just  as  soon 
as  I  saw  you." 

"Oh,  you  did,  did  you?" 

"  Yes,  sir;  I  saw  it  in  your  eyes,  you  know,  and 
in  your  smile." 


Which  Tells  of  the  Man  d» 

"  Humph!  "  grunted  the  man,  as  he  passed  on. 

The  Man  always  spoke  to  Pollyanna  after  this, 
and  frequently  he  spoke  first,  though  usually  he  said 
little  but  "  good  afternoon."  Even  that,  however, 
was  a  great  surprise  to  Nancy,  who  chanced  to  be 
with  Pollyanna  one  day  when  the  greeting  was 
given. 

"  Sakes  alive,  Miss  Pollyanna,"  she  gasped,  "  did 
that  man  speak  to  you?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  he  always  does  —  now,"  smiled 
Pollyanna. 

"  '  He  always  does  ' !  Goodness !  Do  you  know 
who  —  he  —  is?  "  demanded  Nancy. 

Pollyanna  frowned  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I  reckon  he  forgot  to  tell  me  one  day.  You 
see,  I  did  my  part  of  the  introducing,  but  he 
didn't." 

Nancy's  eyes  widened. 

"  But  he  never  speaks  ter  anybody,  child  —  he 
hain't  for  years,  I  guess,  except  when  he  just  has 
to,  for  business,  and  all  that.  He's  John  Pendleton 
He  lives  all  by  himself  in  the  big  house  on  Pendle- 
ton Hill.  He  won't  even  have  any  one  'round  ter 
cook  for  him  —  comes  down  ter  the  hotel  for  his 
meals  three  times  a  day.  I  know  Sally  Miner,  who 
waits  on  him,  and  she  says  he  hardly  opens  his  head? 


90  Pollyanna 

enough  ter  tell  what  he  wants  ter  eat.  She  has  ter 
guess  it  more'n  half  the  time  —  only  it'll  be  some- 
thin'  cheap!    She  knows  that  without  no  tellinV 

Pollyanna  nodded  sympathetically. 

"  I  know.  You  have  to  look  for  cheap  things 
when  you're  poor.  Father  and  I  took  meals  out  a 
lot.  We  had  beans  and  fish  balls  most  generally. 
We  used  to  say  how  glad  we  were  we  liked  beans 
—  that  is,  we  said  it  specially  when  we  were  looking 
at  the  roast  turkey  place,  you  know,  that  was  sixty 
cents.    Does  Mr.  Pendleton  like  beans?" 

"  Like  'em !  What  if  he  does  —  or  don't ?  Why, 
Miss  Pollyanna,  he  ain't  poor.  He's  got  loads  of 
money,  John  Pendleton  has  —  from  his  father. 
There  ain't  nobody  in  town  as  rich  as  he  is.  He 
could  eat  dollar  bills,  if  he  wanted  to  —  and  not 
know  it." 

Pollyanna  giggled. 

"  As  if  anybody  could  eat  dollar  bills  and  not 
know  it,  Nancy,  when  they  come  to  try  to  chew 
'em!" 

"Ho!  I  mean  he's  rich  enough  ter  do  it," 
shrugged  Nancy.  "  He  ain't  spendin'  his  money, 
that's  all.    He's  a-savin'  of  it." 

"  Oh,  for  the  heathen,"  surmised  Pollyanna. 
"  How  perfectly  splendid !     That's  denying  your- 


Which  Tells  of  the  Man  91 

self  and  taking  up  your  cross.  I  know;  father  told 
me. 

Nancy's  lips  parted  abruptly,  as  if  there  were 
angry  words  all  ready  to  come ;  but  her  eyes,  rest- 
ing on  Pollyanna's  jubilantly  trustful  face,  saw 
something  that  prevented  the  words  being  spoken. 

"  Humph !  "  she  vouchsafed.  Then,  showing  her 
old-time  interest,  she  went  on :  "  But,  say,  it  is 
queer,  his  speakin'  to  you,  honestly,  Miss  Pollyanna. 
He  don't  speak  ter  no  one;  and  he  lives  all  alone 
in  a  great  big  lovely  house  all  full  of  jest  grand 
things,  they  say.  Some  says  he's  crazy,  and  some 
jest  cross;  and  some  says  he's  got  a  skeleton  in  his 
closet." 

"Oh,  Nancy!"  shuddered  Pollyanna.  "How 
can  he  keep  such  a  dreadful  thing?  I  should  think 
he'd  throw  it  away !  " 

Nancy  chuckled.  That  Pollyanna  had  taken  the 
skeleton  literally  instead  of  figuratively,  she  knew 
very  well;  but,  perversely,  she  refrained  from  cor- 
recting the  mistake. 

"  And  everybody  says  he's  mysterious,"  she  went 
on.  "  Some  years  he  jest  travels,  week  in  and  week 
out,  and  it's  always  in  heathen  countries  —  Egypt 
and  Asia  and  the  Desert  of  Sarah,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  a  missionary,"  nodded  Pollyanna. 


32  Pollyanna 

Nancy  laughed  oddly. 

"  Well,  I  didn't  say  that,  Miss  Pollyanna.  When 
he  comes  back  he  writes  books  —  queer,  odd  books, 
they  say,  about  some  gimcrack  he's  found  in  them 
heathen  countries.  But  he  don't  never  seem  ter 
want  ter  spend  no  money  here  —  leastways,  not  for 
jest  livin'." 

"  Of  course  not  —  if  he's  saving  it  for  the 
heathen,"  declared  Pollyanna.  "  But  he  is  a  funny 
man,  and  he's  different,  too,  just  like  Mrs.  Snow, 
only  he's  a  different  different." 

"  Well,  I  guess  he  is  —  rather,"  chuckled  Nancy. 

"  I'm  gladder'n  ever  now,  anyhow,  that  he  speaks 
to  me,"  sighed  Pollyanna  contentedly. 


CHAPTER    X 

A   SURPRISE   FOR    MRS.    SNOW 

The  next  time  Pollyanna  went  to  see  Mrs.  Snow, 
she  found  that  lady,  as  at  first,  in  a  darkened  room. 

"  It's  the  little  girl  from  Miss  Polly's,  mother," 
announced  Milly,  in  a  tired  manner;  then  Polly- 
anna found  herself  alone  with  the  invalid. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it?  "  asked  a  fretful  voice  from 
the  bed.  "  I  remember  you.  Anybody'd  remember 
you,  I  guess,  if  they  saw  you  once.  I  wish  you  had 
come  yesterday.     I  wanted  you  yesterday." 

"Did  you?  Well,  I'm  glad  'tisn't  any  farther 
away  from  yesterday  than  to-day  is,  then,"  laughed 
Pollyanna,  advancing  cheerily  into  the  room,  and 
setting  her  basket  carefully  down  on  a  chair.  "  My ! 
but  aren't  you  dark  here,  though?  I  can't  see  you 
a  bit,"  she  cried,  unhesitatingly  crossing  to  the  win- 
dow and  pulling  up  the  shade.  "  I  want  to  see  if 
you've  fixed  your  hair  like  I  did  — oh,  you  haven't  \ 
But,  never  mind ;    I'm  glad  you  haven't,  after  all.. 

93 


94  Pollyanna 

— -v 

'cause  maybe  you'll  let  me  do  it  —  later.  But  now 
I  want  you  to  see  what  I've  brought  you." 

The  woman  stirred  restlessly. 

"  Just  as  if  how  it  looks  would  make  any  differ- 
ence in  how  it  tastes,"  she  scoffed  —  but  she  turned 
her  eyes  toward  the  basket.    "  Well,  what  is  it?  " 

"  Guess!  What  do  you  want?  "  Pollyanna  had 
skipped  back  to  the  basket.    Her  face  was  alight. 

The  sick  woman  frowned. 

"  Why,  I  don't  want  anything,  as  I  know  of," 
she  sighed.    "  After  all,  they  all  taste  alike !  " 

Pollyanna  chuckled. 

"  This  won't.  Guess !  If  you  did  want  some- 
thing, what  would  it  be?  " 

The  woman  hesitated.  She  did  not  realize  it 
herself,  but  she  had  so  long  been  accustomed  to 
wanting  what  she  did  not  have,  that  to  state  off- 
hand what  she  did  want  seemed  impossible  —  until 
she  knew  what  she  had.  Obviously,  however,  she 
must  say  something.  This  extraordinary  child  was 
waiting. 

"  Well,  of  course,  there's  lamb  broth  —  " 

"  I've  got  it !  "  crowed  Pollyanna. 

"  But  that's  what  I  didn't  want,"  sighed  the  sick 
woman,  sure  now  of  what  her  stomach  craved.  "  It 
was  chicken  I  wanted." 


A  Surprise  for  Mrs.  Snow  95 

e  ,j  -*• 

"  Oh,  I've  got  that,  too,"  chuckled  Pollyanna. 

The  woman  turned  in  amazement. 

"  Both  of  them?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Yes  —  and  calf's-foot  jelly,"  triumphed  Polly- 
anna. "  I  was  just  bound  you  should  have  what 
you  wanted  for  once ;  so  Nancy  and  I  fixed  it.  Oh, 
of  course,  there's  only  a  little  of  each  —  but  there's 
some  of  all  of  'em!  I'm  so  glad  you  did  want 
chicken,"  she  went  on  contentedly,  as  she  lifted  the 
three  little  bowls  from  her  basket.  "  You  see,  I  got 
to  thinking  on  the  way  here  —  what  if  you  should 
say  tripe,  or  onions,  or  something  like  that,  that  I 
didn't  have!  Wouldn't  it  have  been  a  shame  — 
when  I'd  tried  so  hard?  "  she  laughed  merrily. 

There  was  no  reply.  The  sick  woman  seemed  to 
be  trying  —  mentally  —  to  find  something  she  had 
lost. 

"  There !  I'm  to  leave  them  all,"  announced  Polly- 
anna, as  she  arranged  the  three  bowls  in  a  row  on 
the  table.  "  Like  enough  it'll  be  lamb  broth  you 
want  to-morrow.  How  do  you  do  to-day?  "  she 
finished  in  polite  inquiry. 

"  Very  poorly,  thank  you,"  murmured  Mrs. 
Snow,  falling  back  into  her  usual  listless  attitude. 
"  I  lost  my  nap  this  morning.  Nellie  Higgins  next 
door  has  begun  music  lessons,  and  her  practising 


iG6  Pollyanna 

drives  me  nearly  wild.  She  was  at  it  all  the  morn- 
ing—  every  minute!  I'm  sure,  I  don't  know  what 
I  shall  do!" 

Polly  nodded  sympathetically. 

"  I  know.  It  is  awful!  Mrs.  White  had  it  once 
' —  one  of  my  Ladies'  Aiders,  you  know.  She  had 
rheumatic  fever,  too,  at  the  same  time,  so  she 
•couldn't  thrash  'round.  She  said  'twould  have  been 
easier  if  she  could  have.    Can  you?  " 

"Can  I  — what?" 

"  Thrash  'round  —  move,  you  know,  so  as  to 
change  your  position  when  the  music  gets  too  hard 
to  stand." 

Mrs.  Snow  stared  a  little. 

"  Why,  of  course  I  can  move  —  anywhere  —  in 
bed,"  she  rejoined  a  little  irritably. 

"  Well,  you  can  be  glad  of  that,  then,  anyhow, 
can't  you?"  nodded  Pollyanna.  "Mrs.  White 
couldn't.  You  can't  thrash  when  you  have  rheu- 
matic fever  —  though  you  want  to  something  awful, 
Mrs.  White  says.  She  told  me  afterwards  she  reck- 
oned she'd  have  gone  raving  crazy  if  it  hadn't  been 
ior  Mr.  White's  sister's  ears  —  being  deaf,  so." 

"  Sister's  —  ears!    What  do  you  mean?  " 

Pollyanna  laughed. 

"  Well.  I  reckon  I  didn't  tell  it  all,  and  I  forgo/ 


A  Surprise  for  Mrs.  Snow  97 

you  didn't  know  Mrs.  White.  You  see,  Miss  White 
was  deaf  —  awfully  deaf;  and  she  came  to  visit 
'em  and  to  help  take  care  of  Mrs.  White  and  the 
house.  Well,  they  had  such  an  awful  time  making 
her  understand  any  tiling,  that  after  that,  every  time 
the  piano  commenced  to  play  across  the  street,  Mrs. 
White  felt  so  glad  she  could  hear  it,  that  she  didn't 
mind  so  much  that  she  did  hear  it,  'cause  she 
couldn't  help  thinking  how  awful  'twould  be  if  she 
was  deaf  and  couldn't  hear  anything,  like  her  hus- 
band's sister.  You  see,  she  was  playing  the  game, 
too.    I'd  told  her  about  it." 

"The  — game?" 

Pollyanna  clapped  her  hands. 

"  There !  I  'most  forgot ;  but  I've  thought  it  up, 
Mrs.  Snow  —  what  you  can  be  glad  about." 

"  Glad  about !    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  told  you  I  would.  Don't  you  remem- 
ber? You  asked  me  to  tell  you  something  to  be 
glad  about  —  glad,  you  know,  even  though  you  did 
have  to  lie  here  abed  all  day." 

"Oh!"  scoffed  the  woman.  "That?  Yes,  I 
remember  that;  but  I  didn't  suppose  you  were  in 
earnest  any  more  than  I  was." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  was,"  nodded  Pollyanna,  trium- 
phantly ;    "  and  I  found  it,  too.       But  'twas  hard. 


98  Pollyanna 

It's  all  the  more  fun,  though,  always,  when  'tis  hard. 
And  I  will  own  up,  honest  to  true,  that  I  couldn't 
think  of  anything  for  a  while.    Then  I  got  it." 

"Did  you,  really?  Well,  what  is  it?"  Mrs. 
Snow's  voice  was  sarcastically  polite. 

Pollyanna  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  I  thought  —  how  glad  you  could  be  —  that 
other  folks  weren't  like  you  —  all  sick  in  bed  like 
this,  you  know,"  she  announced  impressively. 

Mrs.  Snow  stared.     Her  eyes  were  angry. 

"  Well,  really ! "  she  ejaculated  then,  in  not  quite 
an  agreeable  tone  of  voice. 

"  And  now  I'll  tell  you  the  game,"  proposed 
Pollyanna,  blithely  confident.  "  It'll  be  just  lovely 
for  you  to  play  —  it'll  be  so  hard.  And  there's  so 
much  more  fun  when  it  is  hard!  You  see,  it's  like 
this."  And  she  began  to  tell  of  the  missionary  bar- 
rel, the  crutches,  and  the  doll  that  did  not  come. 

The  story  was  just  finished  when  Milly  appeared 
at  the  door. 

"  Your  aunt  is  wanting  you,   Miss   Pollyanna," 
she  said  with  dreary  listlessness.     "  She  telephoned 
down  to  the  Harlows'  across  the  way.     She  says; 
you're  to  hurry  —  that  you've  got  some  practising 
to  make  up  before  dark." 

Pollyanna  rose  reluctantly. 


A  Surprise  for  Mrs.  Snow  99 

"All  right,"  she  sighed.  "I'll  hurry."  Sud- 
denly she  laughed.  "  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be 
glad  I've  got  legs  to  hurry  with,  hadn't  I,  Mrs.. 
Snow?" 

There  was  no  answer.  Mrs.  Snow's  eyes  were 
closed.  But  Milly,  whose  eyes  were  wide  open  with 
surprise,  saw  that  there  were  tears  on  the  wasted 
cheeks. 

"  Good-by,"  flung  Pollyanna  over  her  shoulder, 
as  she  reached  the  door.  "  I'm  awfully  sorry  about 
the  hair  —  I  wanted  to  do  it.  But  maybe  I  can  next 
time!" 

One  by  one  the  July  days  passed.  To  Pollyanna, 
they  were  happy  days,  indeed.  She  often  told  her 
aunt,  joyously,  how  very  happy  they  were.  Where- 
upon her  aunt  would  usually  reply,  wearily : 

"  Very  well,  Pollyanna.  I  am  gratified,  of  course, 
that  they  are  happy;  but  I  trust  that  they  are  prof- 
itable, as  well  —  otherwise  I  should  have  failed  sig- 
nally in  my  duty." 

Generally  Pollyanna  would  answer  this  with  a 
hug  and  a  kiss  —  a  proceeding  that  was  still  always 
most  disconcerting  to  Miss  Polly;  but  one  day  she 
spoke.    It  was  during  the  sewing  hour. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  it  wouldn't  be  enough  then, 


100  Pollyanna 

Aunt  Polly,  that  they  should  be  just  happy  days?'' 
she  asked  wistfully. 

"  That  is  what  I  mean,  Pollyanna." 

"  They  must  be  pro-fi-ta-ble  as  well  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  What  is  being  pro-fi-ta-ble?  " 

"  Why,  it  —  it's  just  being  profitable  —  having 
profit,  something  to  show  for  it,  Pollyanna.  What 
an  extraordinary  child  you  are !  " 

"  Then  just  being  glad  isn't  pro-fi-ta-ble?  "  ques- 
tioned  Pollyanna,  a  little  anxiously. 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  O  dear!  Then  you  wouldn't  like  it,  of  course. 
I'm  afraid,  now,  you  won't  ever  play  the  game, 
Aunt  Polly." 

"Game?    What  game?" 

"  Why,  that  father  —  "  Pollyanna  clapped  her 
hand  to  her  lips.     "  N-nothing,"  she  stammered. 

Miss  Polly  frowned. 

"  That  will  do  for  this  morning,  Pollyanna,"  she 
said  tersely.    And  the  sewing  lesson  was  over. 

It  was  that  afternoon  that  Pollyanna,  coming 
down  from  her  attic  room,  met  her  aunt  on  the 
stairway. 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  how  perfectly  lovely ! "  she 
cried.     "  You  were  coming  up  to  see  me !     Come 


A  Surprise  for  Mrs.  Snow         io» 

right  in.  I  love  company,"  she  finished,  scampering 
up  the  stairs  and  throwing  her  door  wide  open. 

Now  Miss  Polly  had  not  been  intending  to  call 
on  her  niece.  She  had  been  planning  to  look  for 
a  certain  white  wool  shawl  in  the  cedar  chest  near 
the  east  window.  But  to  her  unbounded  surprise 
now,  she  found  herself,  not  in  the  main  attic  before 
the  cedar  chest,  but  in  Pollyanna's  little  room  sitting 
in  one  of  the  straight-backed  chairs  —  so  many, 
many  times  since  Pollyanna  came,  Miss  Polly  had 
found  herself  like  this,  doing  some  utterly  unex- 
pected, surprising  thing,  quite  unlike  the  thing  she 
had  set  out  to  do! 

"  I  love  company,"  said  Pollyanna,  again,  flitting 
about  as  if  she  were  dispensing  the  hospitality  of  a 
Dalace ;  "  specially  since  I've  had  this  room,  all 
mine,  you  know.  Oh,  of  course,  I  had  a  room, 
always,  but  'twas  a  hired  room,  and  hired  rooms 
aren't  half  as  nice  as  owned  ones,  are  they?  And 
of  course  I  do  own  this  one,  don't  I  ?  " 

"  Why,  y-yes,  Pollyanna,"  murmured  Miss  Polly, 
vaguely  wondering  why  she  did  not  get  up  at  once 
and  go  to  look  for  that  shawl. 

"  And  of  course  now  I  just  love  this  room,  even 
if  it  hasn't  got  the  carpets  and  curtains  and  pictures 
that  I'd  been  want—  "    With  a  painful  blush  Foilv- 


102  Pollyanna 

.'  ssk  asaa 

anna  stopped  short.  She  was  plunging  into  an  en- 
tirely different  sentence  when  her  aunt  interrupted 
her  sharply. 

"What's  that,  Pollyanna?" 

"  N-nothing,  Aunt  Polly,  truly.  I  didn't  mean 
to  say  it." 

"  Probably  not,"  returned  Miss  Polly,  coldly; 
"  but  you  did  say  it,  so  suppose  we  have  the  rest 
of  it." 

"  But  it  wasn't  anything  only  that  I'd  been  kind 
of  planning  on  pretty  carpets  and  lace  curtains  and 
things,  you  know.     But,  of  course  —  " 

"Planning  on  them!"  interrupted  Miss  Polly, 
sharply. 

Pollyanna  blushed  still  more  painfully. 

"  I  ought  not  to  have,  of  course,  Aunt  Polly," 
she  apologized.  "  It  was  only  because  I'd  always 
wanted  them  and  hadn't  had  them,  I  suppose.  Ohf 
we'd  had  two  rugs  in  the  barrels,  but  they  were 
little,  you  know,  and  one  had  ink  spots,  and  the 
other  holes;  and  there  never  were  only  those  two 
pictures ;  the  one  fath —  I  mean  the  good  one  we 
sold,  and  the  bad  one  that  broke.  Of  course  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  all  that  I  shouldn't  have  wanted 
them,  so  —  pretty  things,  I  mean;  and  I  shouldn't 
have  got  to  planning  all  through  the  hall  that  first 


A  Surprise  for  Mrs.  Snow         10s 

day  how  pretty  mine  would  be  here,  and  —  and  — 
But,  truly,  Aunt  Polly,  it  wasn't  but  just  a  minute 
—  I  mean,  a  few  minutes  —  before  I  was  being 
glad  that  the  bureau  didn't  have  a  looking-glass, 
because  it  didn't  show  my  freckles;  and  there 
couldn'i.  be  a  nicer  picture  than  the  one  out  my 
window  there;  and  you've  been  so  good  to  me, 
that  —  " 

Miss  Polly  rose  suddenly  to  her  feet.  Her  face 
was  very  red. 

"  That  will  do,  Pollyanna,"  she  said  stiffly. 
"  You  have  said  quite  enough,  I'm  sure."  The  next 
minute  she  had  swept  down  the  stairs  —  and  not 
until  she  reached  the  first  floor  did  it  suddenly  occur 
to  her  that  she  had  gone  up  into  the  attic  to  find  a 
white  wool  shawl  in  the  cedar  chest  near  the  east 
window. 

Less  than  twenty-four  hours  later,  Miss  Polly 
said  to  Nancy,  crisply: 

"  Nancy,  you  may  move  Miss  Pollyanna's  things 
down-stairs  this  morning  to  the  room  directly  be- 
neath. I  have  decided  to  have  my  niece  sleep  there 
for  the  present." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Nancy  aloud. 

u  O  glory!  "  said  Nancy  to  herself. 

To  Pollyanna,  a  minute  later,  she  cried  joyously: 


10-4  PoIIyanna 

"  And  won't  ye  jest  be  listenin'  ter  this,  Miss 
PoIIyanna.  You're  ter  sleep  down-stairs  in  the 
room  straight  under  this.    You  are  —  you  are!" 

PoIIyanna  actually  grew  white. 

"You  mean  —  why,  Nancy,  not  really  —  really 
and  truly?  " 

"  I  guess  you'll  think  it's  really  and  truly,"  proph- 
esied Nancy,  exultingly,  nodding  her  head  to  Polly- 
anna  over  the  armful  of  dresses  she  had  taken  from 
the  closet.  "  I'm  told  ter  take  down  yer  things, 
and  I'm  goin'  ter  take  'em,  too,  'fore  she  gets  a 
chance  ter  change  her  mind." 

PoIIyanna  did  not  stop  to  hear  the  end  of  this 
sentence.  At  the  imminent  risk  of  being  dashed 
headlong,  she  was  flying  down-stairs,  twro  steps  at 
a  time. 

Bang  went  two  doors  and  a  chair  before  Polly- 
anna  at  last  reached  her  goal  —  Aunt  Polly. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  Aunt  Polly,  did  you  mean  it, 
really  ?  Why,  that  room's  got  everything  —  the  car- 
pet and  curtains  and  three  pictures,  besides  the  one 
outdoors,  too,  'cause  the  windows  look  the  same 
way.     Oh,  Aunt  Polly !  " 

"  Very  well,  PoIIyanna.  I  am  gratified  that  you 
like  the  change,  of  course;  but  if  you  think  so 
much  of  all  those  things,  I  trust  you  will  take  proper 


A  Surprise  for  Mrs.  Snow         105 

care  of  them;  that's  all.  Pollyanna,  please  pick  up 
that  chair;  and  you  have  banged  two  doors  in  the 
last  half-minute."  Miss  Polly  spoke  sternly,  all  the 
•  more  sternly  because,  for  some  inexplicable  reason, 
she  felt  inclined  to  cry  —  and  Miss  Polly  was  not 
used  to  feeling  inclined  to  cry. 

Pollyanna  picked  up  the  chair. 

"  Yes'm ;  I  know  I  banged  'em  —  those  doors," 
she  admitted  cheerfully.  "  You  see  I'd  just  found 
out  about  the  room,  and  I  reckon  you'd  have  banged 
doors  if  —  "  Pollyanna  stopped  short  and  eyed  her 
aunt  with  new  interest.  "  Aunt  Polly,  did  you  ever 
bang  doors  ?  " 

"  I  hope  —  not,  Pollyanna!  "  Miss  Polly's  voice 
was  properly  shocked. 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  what  a  shame !  "  Polly- 
anna's  face  expressed  only  concerned  sympathy. 

"  A  shame!  "  repeated  Aunt  Polly,  too  dazed  to 
say  more. 

"  Why,  yes.  You  see,  if  you'd  felt  like  banging 
doors  you'd  have  banged  'em,  of  course;  and  if 
you  didn't,  that  must  have  meant  that  you  weren't 
ever  glad  over  anything  —  or  you  would  have 
banged  'em.  You  couldn't  have  helped  it.  And 
I'm  so  sorry  you  weren't  ever  glad  over  anything!  " 

"Pollyanna!"  gasped  the  lady;    but  Pollyanna 


106  Pollyanna 

1  -— 

was  gone,  and  only  the  distant  bang  of  the  attic- 
stairway  door  answered  for  her.  Pollyanna  had 
gone  to  help  Nancy  bring  down  "  her  things." 

Miss  Polly,  in  the  sitting  room,  felt  vaguely  dis- 
turbed ;  —  but  then,  of  course  she  had  been  glad  — ■ 
over  some  things! 


CHAPTER    XT 

INTRODUCING   JIMMY 

August  came.  August  brought  several  sur- 
prises and  some  changes  —  none  of  which,  however, 
were  really  a  surprise  to  Nancy.  Nancy,  since 
Pollyanna's  arrival,  had  come  to  look  for  surprises 
and  changes. 

First  there  was  the  kitten. 

Pollyanna  found  the  kitten  mewing  pitifully  some 
distance  down  the  road.  When  systematic  ques- 
tioning of  the  neighbors  failed  to  find  any  one  who 
claimed  it,  Pollyanna  brought  it  home  at  once,  as 
a  matter  of  course. 

"  And  I  was  glad  I  didn't  find  any  one  who 
owned  it,  "too,"  she  told  her  aunt  in  happy  confi- 
dence ;  "  'cause  I  wanted  to  bring  it  home  all  the 
time.  I  love  kitties.  I  knew  you'd  be  glad  to  let  it 
live  here." 

Miss  Polly  looked  at  the  forlorn  little  gray  bunch 
of  neglected  misery  in  Pollyanna's  arms,  and  shiv- 

107 


108  Pollyanna 

ered :  Miss  Polly  did  not  care  for  cats  —  not  even 
pretty,  healthy,  clean  ones. 

"Ugh!  Pollyanna!  What  a  dirty  little  beast! 
And  it's  sick,  I'm  sure,  and  all  mangy  and  fleay." 

"  I  know  it,  poor  little  thing,"  crooned  Pollyanna, 
tenderly,  looking  into  the  little  creature's  frightened 
eyes.  "  And  it's  all  trembly,  too,  it's  so  scared. 
You  see  it  doesn't  know,  yet,  that  we're  going  to 
keep  it,  of  course." 

"  No  —  nor  anybody  else,"  retorted  Miss  Polly, 
with  meaning  emphasis. 

"  Oh,  yes,  they  do,"  nodded  Pollyanna,  entirely 
misunderstanding  her  aunt's  words.  "  I  told  every- 
body we  should  keep  it,  if  I  didn't  find  where  it  be- 
longed. I  knew  you'd  be  glad  to  have  it  —  poor 
little  lonesome  thing !  " 

Miss  Polly  opened  her  lips  and  tried  to  speak; 
but  in  vain.  The  curious  helpless  feeling  that  had 
been  hers  so  often  since  Pollyanna's  arrival,  had 
her  now  fast  in  its  grip. 

"Of  course  I  knew,"  hurried  on  Pollyanna, 
gratefully,  "  that  you  wouldn't  let  a  dear  little  lone- 
some kitty  go  hunting  for  a  home  when  you'd  just 
taken  me  in ;  and  I  said  so  to  Mrs.  Ford  when  she 
asked  if  you'd  let  me  keep  it.  Why,  /  had  the 
Ladies'  Aid,  you  know,  and  kittv  didn't  have  any- 


Introducing  Jimmy  10$ 

body.  I  knew  you'd  feel  that  way,"  she  nodded 
happily,  as  she  ran  from  the  room. 

"  But,  Pollyanna,  Pollyanna,"  remonstrated  Miss 
Polly.  "  I  don't  —  "  But  Pollyanna  was  already 
halfway  to  the  kitchen,  calling : 

"  Nancy,  Nancy,  just  see  this  dear  little  kitty 
that  Aunt  Polly  is  going  to  bring  up  along  with 
me !  "  And  Aunt  Polly,  in  the  sitting  room  —  who 
abhorred  cats  —  fell  back  in  her  chair  with  a  gasp 
of  dismay,  powerless  to  remonstrate. 

The  next  day  it  was  a  dog,  even  dirtier  and  more 
forlorn,  perhaps,  than  was  the  kitten;  and  again 
Miss  Polly,  to  her  dumfounded  amazement,  found 
herself  figuring  as  a  kind  protector  and  an  angel  of 
mercy  —  a  role  that  Pollyanna  so  unhesitatingly 
thrust  upon  her  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  the 
woman  —  who  abhorred  dogs  even  more  than  she 
did  cats,  if  possible  —  found  herself  as  before, 
powerless  to  remonstrate. 

When,  in  less  than  a  week,  however,  Pollyanna 
brought  home  a  small,  ragged  boy,  and  confidently 
claimed  the  same  protection  for  him,  Miss  Polly 
did  have  something  to  say.  It  happened  after  this 
wise. 

On  a  pleasant  Thursday  morning  Pollyanna  had 
been  taking  calf  s-foot  jelly  again  to  Mrs.  Snow. 


no  Poliyanna 

Mrs.  Snow  and  Poliyanna  were  the  best  of  friends 
now.  Their  friendship  had  started  from  the  third 
visit  Poliyanna  had  made,  the  one  after  she  had 
told  Mrs.  Snow  of  the  game.  Mrs.  Snow  herself 
was  playing  the  game  now,  with  Poliyanna.  To  be 
sure,  she  was  not  playing  it  very  well  —  she  had 
been  sorry  for  everything  for  so  long,  that  it  was 
not  easy  to  be  glad  for  anything  now.  But  under 
Pollyanna's  cheery  instructions  and  merry  laughter 
at  her  mistakes,  she  was  learning  fast.  To-day, 
even,  to  Pollyanna's  huge  delight,  she  had  said  that 
she  was  glad  Poliyanna  brought  calf's-foot  jelly, 
because  that  was  just  what  she  had  been  wanting  — 
she  did  not  know  that  Milly,  at  the  front  door,  had 
told  Poliyanna  that  the  minister's  wife  had  already 
that  day  sent  over  a  great  bowlful  of  that  same 
kind  of  jelly. 

Poliyanna  was  thinking  of  this  now  when  sud- 
denly she  saw  the  boy. 

The  boy  was  sitting  in  a  disconsolate  little  heap 
by  the  roadside,  whittling  half-heartedly  at  a  small 
stick. 

"  Hullo,"  smiled  Poliyanna,  engagingly. 

The  boy  glanced  up,  but  he  looked  away  again, 
at  once. 

"  Hullo  yourself,"  he  mumbled. 


Introducing  Jimmy  m 


Pollyanna  laughed. 

"  Now  you  don't  look  as  if  you'd  be  glad  even 
for  calf's-foot  jelly,"  she  chuckled,  stopping  before 
him. 

The  boy  stirred  restlessly,  gave  her  a  sur- 
prised look,  and  began  to  whittle  again  at  his 
stick,  with  the  dull,  broken-bladed  knife  in  his 
hand. 

Pollyanna  hesitated,  then  dropped  herself  com- 
fortably down  on  the  grass  near  him.  In  spite  of 
Pollyanna's  brave  assertion  that  she  was  "  used  to 
Ladies'  Aiders,"  and  "  didn't  mind,"  she  had  sighed 
at  times  for  some  companion  of  her  own  age. 
Hence  her  determination  to  make  the  most  of  this 
one. 

"  My  name's  Pollyanna  Whittier,"  she  began 
pleasantly.     "  What's  yours  ?  " 

Again  the  boy  stirred  restlessly.  He  even  almost 
got  to  his  feet.     But  he  settled  back. 

"  Jimmy  Bean,"  he  grunted  with  ungracious  in- 
difference. 

"  Good !  Now  we're  introduced.  I'm  glad  you 
did  your  part  —  some  folks  don't,  you  know.  I 
live  at  Miss  Polly  Harrington's  house;  Where  do 
you  live?  " 

"  Nowhere." 


112  Pollyanna 

"  Nowhere !  Why,  you  can't  do  that  —  every- 
body lives  somewhere,"  asserted  Pollyanna. 

"Well,  I  don't  —  just  now.  I'm  huntin'  up  a 
new  place." 

"Oh!    Where  is  it?" 

The  boy  regarded  her  with  scornful  eyes. 

"Silly!  As  if  I'd  be  a-huntin'  for  it  — if  I 
knew!" 

Pollyanna  tossed  her  head  a  little.  This  was  not 
a  nice  boy,  and  she  did  not  like  to  be  called  "  silly." 
Still,  he  was  somebody  besides  —  old  folks. 

"Where  did  you  live  —  before?"  she  queried. 

"  Well,  if  you  ain't  the  beat'em  for  askin'  ques- 
tions !  "  sighed  the  boy  impatiently. 

"  I  have  to  be,"  retorted  Pollyanna  calmly,  "  else 
I  couldn't  find  out  a  thing  about  you.  If  you'd 
talk  more  I  wouldn't  talk  so  much." 

The  boy  gave  a  short  laugh.  It  was  a  sheepish 
laugh,  and  not  quite  a  willing  one;  but  his  face 
looked  a  little  pleasanter  when  he  spoke  this 
time. 

"  All  right  then  —  here  goes !  I'm  Jimmy  Bean, 
and  I'm  ten  years  old  goin'  on  eleven.  I  come 
last  year  ter  live  at  the  Orphans'  Home;  but 
they've  got  so  many  kids  there  ain't  much  room  for 
me,  an'  I  w^'n't  never  wanted,  anyhow,  I  don't 


Introducing  Jimmy  113 

believe.  So  I've  quit.  I'm  goin'  ter  live  some- 
wheres  else  —  but  I  hain't  found  the  place,  yet.  I'd 
like  a  home  —  jest  a  common  one,  ye  know,  with 
a  mother  in  it,  instead  of  a  Matron.  If  ye  has  a 
home,  ye  has  folks;  an'  I  hain't  had  folks  since  — 
dad  died.  So  I'm  a-huntin'  now.  I've  tried  four 
houses,  but  —  they  didn't  want  me  —  though  I 
said  I  expected  ter  work,  'course.  There !  Is  that 
all  you  want  ter  know?"  The  boy's  voice  had 
broken  a  little  over  the  last  two  sentences. 

"  Why,  what  a  shame !  "  sympathized  Pollyanna. 
"  And  didn't  there  anybody  want  you  ?  O  dear !  I 
know  just  how  you  feel,  because  after  —  after  my 
father  died,  too,  there  wasn't  anybody  but  the 
Ladies'  Aid  for  me,  until  Aunt  Polly  said  she'd 
take  —  "  .  Pollyanna  stopped  abruptly.  The  dawn- 
ing of  a  wonderful  idea  began  to  show  in  her 
face. 

"  Oh,  I  know  just  the  place  for  you,"  she  cried. 
"  Aunt  Polly'll  take  you  —  I  know  she  will !  Didn't 
she  take  me?  And  didn't  she  take  Fluffy  and 
Buffy,  when  they  didn't  have  any  one  to  love  them, 
or  any  place  to  go  ?  —  and  they're  only  cats  and 
dogs.  Oh,  come,  I  know  Aunt  Polly'll  take  you! 
You  don't  know  how  good  and  kind  she  is !  " 

Jimmy  Bean's  thin  little  face  brightened 


114  Polly  anna 

"Honest  Injun?  Would  she,  now?  I'd  work, 
ye  know,  an'  I'm  real  strong !  "  He  bared  a  small, 
bony  arm. 

"Of  course  she  would !  Why,  my  Aunt  Polly  is 
the  nicest  lady  in  the  world  —  now  that  my  mama 
has  gone  to  be  a  Heaven  angel.  And  there's  rooms 
—  heaps  of  'em,"  she  continued,  springing  to  her 
feet,  and  tugging  at  his  arm.  "  It's  an  awful  big 
house.  Maybe,  though,"  she  added  a  little  anx- 
iously, as  they  hurried  on,  "  maybe  you'll  have  to 
sleep  in  the  attic  room.  I  did,  at  first.  But  there's 
screens  there  now,  so  'twon't  be  so  hot,  and  the  flies 
can't  get  in,  either,  to  bring  in  the  germ-things  on 
their  feet.  Did  you  know  about  that?  It's  per- 
fectly lovely!  Maybe  she'll  let  you  read  the  book 
if  you're  good  —  I  mean,  if  you're  bad.  And  you've 
got  freckles,  too,"  —  with  a  critical  glance  —  "  so 
you'll  be  glad  there  isn't  any  looking-glass ;  and  the 
outdoor  picture  is  nicer  than  any  wall-one  could  be, 
so  you  won't  mind  sleeping  in  that  room  at  all,  I'm 
sure,"  panted  Pollyanna,  finding  suddenly  that  she 
needed  the  rest  of  her  breath  for  purposes  other 
than  talking. 

"  Gorry !  "  exclaimed  Jimmy  Bean  tersely  and 
uncomprehendingly,  but  admiringly.  Then  he 
added :   "  I  shouldn't  think  anybody  who  could  talk 


Introducing  Jimmy  lis 

like  that,  runnin',  would  need  ter  ask  no  questions 
ter  fill  up  time  with !  " 

Pollyanna  laughed. 

"  Well,  anyhow,  you  can  be  glad  of  that,"  she 
retorted ;  "  for  when  I'm  talking,  you  don't  have 
to!" 

When  the  house  was  reached,  Pollyanna  unhesi- 
tatingly piloted  her  companion  straight  into  the 
presence  of  her  amazed  aunt. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,"  she  triumphed.  "  Just  look 
a-here!  I've  got  something  ever  so  much  nicer, 
tven,  than  Fluffy  and  Buffy  for  you  to  bring  up. 
It's  a  real  live  boy.  He  won't  mind  a  bit  sleeping 
in  the  attic,  at  first,  you  know,  and  he  says  he'll 
work;  but  I  shall  need  him  the  most  of  the  time  to 
play  with,  I  reckon." 

Miss  Polly  grew  white,  then  very  red.  She  did 
not  quite  understand ;  but  she  thought  she  under- 
stood enough. 

"  Pollyanna,  what  does  this  mean?  Who  is  this 
dirty  little  boy?  Where  did  you  find  him?"  she 
demanded  sharply. 

The  "  dirty  little  boy "  fell  back  a  step  and 
looked  toward  the  door.  Pollyanna  laughed  mer- 
rily. 


116  Follyanna 

— *■> 

"  There,  if  I  didn't  forget  to  tell  you  his  name ! 
I'm  as  bad  as  the  Man.  And  he  is  dirty,  too,  isn't 
he?  —  I  mean,  the  boy  is  —  just  like  Fluffy  and 
Buffy  were  when  you  took  them  in.  But  I  reckon 
he'll  improve  all  right  by  washing,  just  as  they  did, 
and —  Oh,  I  'most  forgot  again,"  she  broke  off 
with  a  laugh.    "  This  is  Jimmy  Bean,  Aunt  Polly." 

"  Well,  what  is  he  doing  here  ?  " 

"Why,  Aunt  Polly,  I  just  told  you!"  Polly- 
anna's  eyes  were  wide  with  surprise.  "  Pie's  for 
you.  I  brought  him  home  —  so  he  could  live  here, 
you  know.  He  wants  a  home  and  folks.  I  told 
him  how  good  you  were  to  me,  and  to  Fluffy  and 
Buffy,  and  that  I  knew  you  would  be  to  him,  be- 
cause of  course  he's  even  nicer  than  cats  and  dogs." 

Miss  Polly  dropped  back  in  her  chair  and  raised 
a  shaking  hand  to  her  throat.  The  old  helplessness 
was  threatening  once  more  to  overcome  her.  With 
a  visible  struggle,  however,  Miss  Polly  pulled  her- 
self suddenly  erect. 

"  That  will  do,  Pollyanna.  This  is  a  little  the 
most  absurd  thing  you've  done  yet.  As  if  tramp 
cats  and  mangy  dogs  weren't  bad  enough  but  you 
must  needs  bring  home  ragged  little  beggars  from 
the  street,  who  —  " 

There  was  a  sudden  stir  from  the  boy.    His  eyes 


Introducing  Jimmy  117 

flashed  and  his  chin  came  up.  With  two  strides  of 
his  sturdy  little  legs  he  confronted  Miss  Polly  fear- 
lessly. 

**  I  ain't  a  beggar,  marm,  an'  I  don't  want  nothin' 
o'  you.  I  was  cal'latin'  ter  work,  of  course,  fur  my 
board  an'  keep.  I  wouldn't  have  come  ter  your  old 
house,  anyhow,  if  this  'ere  girl  hadn't  'a'  made  me, 
a-tellin'  me  how  you  was  so  good  an'  kind  that 
you'd  be  jest  dyin'  ter  take  me  in.  So,  there!" 
And  he  wheeled  about  and  stalked  from  the  room 
with  a  dignity  that  would  have  been  absurd  had  it 
not  been  so  pitiful. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,"  choked  Pollyanna.  "  Why, 
I  thought  you'd  be  glad  to  have  him  here !  I'm  sure, 
I  should  think  you'd  be  glad  —  " 

Miss  Polly  raised  her  hand  with  a  peremptory 
gesture  of  silence.  Miss  Polly's  nerves  had  snapped 
at  last.  The  "  good  and  kind  "  of  the  boy's  words 
were  still  ringing  in  her  ears,  and  the  old  helpless- 
ness was  almost  upon  her,  she  knew.  Yet  she  ral- 
lied her  forces  with  the  last  atom  of  her  will  power. 
(  "  Pollyanna,"  she  cried  sharply,  "  will  you  stop 
using  that  everlasting  word  '  glad  ' !  It's  '  glad  '  — ■ 
*  glad  '  —  '  glad  '  from  morning  till  night  until  I 
think  I  shall  grow  wild !  " 

From  sheer  amazement  Pollyanna's  jaw  dropped. 


118  Pollyanna 

1  a 

"Why,  Aunt  Polly,"  she  breathed,  "I  should 
think  you'd  be  glad  to  have  me  gl —  Oh !  "  she 
broke  off,  clapping  her  hand  to  her  lips  and  hurry- 
ing blindly  from  the  room. 

Before  the  boy  had  reached  the  end  of  the  drive- 1 
way,  Pollyanna  overtook  him. 

"  Boy!  Boy!  Jimmy  Bean,  I  want  you  to  know 
how  —  how  sorry  I  am,"  she  panted,  catching  him 
with  a  detaining  hand. 

"  Sorry  nothin' !  I  ain't  blamin'  you,"  retorted 
the  boy,  sullenly.  "  But  I  ain't  no  beggar !  "  he 
added,  with  sudden  spirit. 

"  Of  course  you  aren't !  But  you  mustn't  blame 
auntie,"  appealed  Pollyanna.  "  Probably  I  didn't 
do  the  introducing  right,  anyhow;  and  I  reckon  I 
didn't  tell  her  much  who  you  were.  She  is  good 
and  kind,  really  —  she's  always  been ;  but  I  prob- 
ably didn't  explain  it  right.  I  do  wish  I  could  find 
some  place  for  you,  though!  " 

The  boy  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  half  turned 
away. 

"  Never  mind.  I  guess  I  can  find  one  myself.  I 
ain't  no  beggar,  you  know." 

Pollyanna  was  frowning  thoughtfully.  Of  a 
sudden  she  turned,  her  face  illumined. 

"  Say,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do !    The  Ladies' 


Introducing  Jimmy  119 

Aid  meets  this  afternoon.  I  heard  Aunt  Polly  say 
so.  I'll  lay  your  case  before  them.  That's  what 
father  always  did,  when  he  wanted  anything  — 
educating  the  heathen  and  new  carpets,  you  know." 

The  boy  turned  fiercely. 

"  Well,  I  ain't  a  heathen  or  a  new  carpet.  Be- 
sides—  what  is  a  Ladies'  Aid?" 

Pollyanna  stared  in  shocked  disapproval. 

"  Why,  Jimmy  Bean,  wherever  have  you  been 
brought  up?  —  not  to  know  what  a  Ladies'  Aid 
is!" 

"  Oh,  all  right  —  if  you  ain't  tellin',"  grunted  the 
boy,  turning  and  beginning  to  walk  away  indiffer- 
ently. 

Pollyanna  sprang  to  his  side  at  once. 

"  It's  —  it's  —  why,  it's  just  a  lot  of  ladies  that 
meet  and  sew  and  give  suppers  and  raise  money 
and  —  and  talk;  that's  what  a  Ladies'  Aid  is. 
They're  awfully  kind  —  that  is,  most  of  mine  was, 
back  home.  I  haven't  seen  this  one  here,  but  they're 
always  good,  I  reckon.  I'm  going  to  tell  them  about 
you  this  afternoon." 

Again  the  boy  turned  fiercely. 

"  Not  much  you  will !  Maybe  you  think  I'm 
goin'  ter  stand  'round  an'  hear  a  whole  lot  o'  women 
call  me  a  beggar,  instead  of  jest  one!    Not  much!  " 


120  Pollyanna 

"  Oh,  but  you  wouldn't  be  there,"  argued  Polly- 
anna, quickly.  "  I'd  go  alone,  of  course,  and  tell 
them." 

"You  would?" 

"  Yes ;  and  I'd  tell  it  better  this  time,"  hurried 
on  Pollyanna,  quick  to  see  the  signs  of  relenting  in 
the  boy's  face.  "  And  there'd  be  some  of  'em,  I 
know,  that  would  be  glad  to  give  you  a  home." 

"  I'd  work  —  don't  forget  ter  say  that,"  cau- 
tioned the  boy. 

"  Of  course  not,"  promised  Pollyanna,  happily, 
sure  now  that  her  point  was  gained.  "  Then  I'll  let 
you  know  to-morrow." 

"Where?" 

"  By  the  road  —  where  I  found  you  to-day ;  near 
Mrs.  Snow's  house." 

"  All  right.  I'll  be  there."  The  boy  paused  be- 
fore he  went  on  slowly :  "  Maybe  I'd  better  go  back, 
then,  for  ter-night,  ter  the  Home.  You  see  I  hain't 
no  other  place  ter  stay;  and  —  and  I  didn't  leave 
till  this  mornin'.  I  slipped  out.  I  didn't  tell  'em  I 
wasn't  comin'  back,  else  they'd  pretend  I  couldn't 
come  —  though  I'm  thinkin'  they  won't  do  no 
worryin'  when  I  don't  show  up  sometime.  They 
ain't  like  folks,  ye  know.     They  don't  care!" 

"  I  know,"  nodded  Pollyanna,  with  understand- 


Introducing  Jimmy  121 

ing  eyes.  "  But  I'm  sure,  when  I  see  you  to-mor- 
row, I'll  have  just  a  common  home  and  folks  that 
do  care  all  ready  for  you.  Good-by !  "  she  called 
brightly,  as  she  turned  back  toward  the  house. 

In  the  sitting-room  window  at  that  moment,  Miss 
Polly,  who  had  been  watching  the  two  children, 
followed  with  sombre  eyes  the  boy  until  a  bend  of 
the  road  hid  him  from  sight.  Then  she  sighed, 
turned,  and  walked  listlesly  up-stairs  —  and  Miss 
Polly  did  not  usually  move  listlessly.  In  her  ears 
still  was  the  boy's  scornful  "  you  was  so  good  and 
kind."  In  her  heart  was  a  curious  sense  of  desola- 
tion —  as  of  something  lost, 


CHAPTER    XII 


BEFORE   THE   LADIES     AID 


Dinner,  which  came  at  noon  in  the  Harrington 
homestead,  was  a  silent  meal  on  the  day  of  the 
Ladies'  Aid  meeting.  Pollyanna,  it  is  true,  tried 
to  talk ;  but  she  did  not  make  a  success  of  it,  chiefly 
because  four  times  she  was  obliged  to  break  off  a 
"  glad  "  in  the  middle  of  it,  much  to  her  blushing 
discomfort.  The  fifth  time  it  happened,  Miss  Polly 
moved  her  head  wearily. 

"  There,  there,  child,  say  it,  if  you  want  to,"  she 
sighed.  "  I'm  sure  I'd  rather  you  did  than  not  — 
if  it's  going  to  make  all  this  fuss." 

Pollyanna's  puckered  little  face  cleared. 

"  Oh,  thank  you.  I'm  afraid  it  would  be  pretty 
hard  —  not  to  say  it.  You  see  I've  played  it  so 
long." 

"You've  —  what?"  demanded  Aunt  Polly. 

"  Played  it  —  the  game,  you  know,  that 
father  — "  Pollyanna  stopped  with  a  painful 
blush  at  finding  herself  so  soon  again  on  forbidden 
ground. 

122 


Before  the  Ladies'  Aid  123 

Aunt  Polly  frowned  and  said  nothing.  The  rest 
of  the  meal  was  a  silent  one. 

Pollyanna  was  not  sorry  to  hear  Aunt  Polly  tell 
the  minister's  wife  over  the  telephone,  a  little  later, 
that  she  would  not  be  at  the  Ladies'  Aid  meeting 
that  afternoon,  owing  to  a  headache.  When  Aunt 
Polly  went  up-stairs  to  her  room  and  closed  the 
door,  Pollyanna  tried  to  be  sorry  for  the  headache ; 
but  she  could  not  help  feeling  glad  that  her  aunt 
was  not  to  be  present  that  afternoon  when  she  laid 
the  case  of  Jimmy  Bean  before  the  Ladies'  Aid. 
She  could  not  forget  that  Aunt  Polly  had  called 
Jimmy  Bean  a  little  beggar;  and  she  did  not  want 
Aunt  Polly  to  call  him  that  —  before  the  Ladies' 
Aid. 

Pollyanna  knew  that  the  Ladies'  Aid  met  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  chapel  next  the  church,  not  quite  half 
a  mile  from  home.  She  planned  her  going,  there- 
fore, so  that  she  should  get  there  a  little  before 
three. 

"  I  want  them  all  to  be  tkere,"  she  said  to  her- 
self;  "  else  the  very  one  that  wasn't  there  might  be 
'the  one  who  would  be  wanting  to  give  Jimmy  Bean 
a  home;  and,  of  course,  two  o'clock  always  means 
three,  really  —  to  Ladies'  Aiders." 

Quietly,  but  with  confident  courage,   Pollyanna 


124  Polly  anna 

ascended  the  chapel  steps,  pushed  open  the  door  and 
entered  the  vestibule.  A  soft  babel  of  feminine 
chatter  and  laughter  came  from  the  main  room. 
Hesitating  only  a  brief  moment  Poilyanna  pushed 
open  one  of  the  inner  doors. 

The  chatter  dropped  to  a  surprised  hush.  Polly- 
anna  advanced  a  little  timidly.  Now  that  the  time 
had  come,  she  felt  unwontedly  shy.  After  all,  these 
half-strange,  half-familiar  faces  about  her  were  not 
her  own  dear  Ladies'  Aid. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Ladies'  Aiders?  "  she  faltered 
politely.  "  I'm  Poilyanna  Whittier.  I  —  I  reckon 
some  of  you  know  me,  maybe;  anyway,  I  do  you 
—  only  I  don't  know  you  all  together  this  way." 

The  silence  could  almost  be  felt  now.  Some  of 
the  ladies  did  know  this  rather  extraordinary  niece 
of  their  fellow-member,  and  nearly  all  had  heard 
of  her;  but  not  one  of  them  could  think  of  any- 
thing to  say,  just  then. 

"I  —  I've  come  to  —  to  lay  the  case  before  you," 
stammered  Poilyanna,  after  a  moment,  uncon- 
sciously falling  into  her  father's  familiar  phrase- 
ology. 

There  was  a  slight  rustle. 

"Did  —  did   your  aunt   send  you,  my  dear?* 
asked  Mrs.  Ford,  the  minister's  wife. 


Before  the  Ladies'  Aid  125 

i ass 

Pollyanna  colored  a  little. 

"  Oh,  no.  I  came  all  by  myself.  You  see,  I'm 
used  to  Ladies'  Aiders.  It  was  Ladies'  Aiders  that 
brought  me  up  —  with  father." 

Somebody  tittered  hysterically,  and  the  minister's 
wife  frowned. 

''Yes,  dear.    What  is  it?" 

"  Well,  it  —  it's  Jimmy  Bean,"  sighed  Polly- 
anna. "  He  hasn't  any  home  except  the  Orphan 
one,  and  they're  full,  and  don't  want  him,  anyhow, 
he  thinks;  so  he  wants  another.  He  wants  one  of 
the  common  kind,  that  has  a  mother  instead  of  a 
Matron  in  it  —  folks,  you  know,  that'll  care.  He's 
ten  years  old  going  on  eleven.  I  thought  some  of 
you  might  like  him  —  to  live  with  you,  you  know." 

"  Well,  did  you  ever!  "  murmured  a  voice,  break- 
ing the  dazed  pause  that  followed  Pollyanna's 
words. 

With  anxious  eyes  Pollyanna  swept  the  circle  of 
faces  about  her. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  to  say;  he  will  work,"  she  sup- 
plemented eagerly. 

Still  there  was  silence;  then,  coldly,  one  or  two 
women  began  to  question  her.  After  a  time  they 
all  had  the  story  and  began  to  talk  among  them- 
selves, animatedly,  not  quite  pleasantly. 


126  Pollyanna 

Pollyanna  listened  with  growing  anxiety.  Some 
of  what  was  said  she  could  not  understand.  She 
did  gather,  after  a  time,  however,  that  there  was 
no  woman  there  who  had  a  home  to  give  him, 
though  every  woman  seemed  to  think  that  some  of 
the  others  might  take  him,  as  there  were  several 
who  had  no  little  boys  of  their  own  already  in  their 
homes.  But  there  was  no  one  who  agreed  herself 
to  take  him.  Then  she  heard  the  minister's  wife 
suggest  timidly  that  they,  as  a  society,  might  per- 
haps assume  his  support  and  education  instead  of 
sending  quite  so  much  money  this  year  to  the  little 
boys  in  far-away  India. 

A  great  many  ladies  talked  then,  and  several  of 
them  talked  all  at  once,  and  even  more  loudly  and 
more  unpleasantly  than  before.  It  seemed  that  their 
society  was  famous  for  its  offering  to  Hindu  mis- 
sions, and  several  said  they  should  die  of  mortifi- 
cation if  it  should  be  less  this  year.  Some  of  what 
was  said  at  this  time  Pollyanna  again  thought  she 
could  not  have  understood,  too,  for  it  sounded  al- 
most as  if  they  did  not  care  at  all  what  the  money 
did,  so  long  as  the  sum  opposite  the  name  of  their 
society  in  a  certain  "  report  "  "  headed  the  list  "  — 
and  of  course  that  could  not  be  what  they  meant  at 
all!     But  it  was  all  very  confusing,  and  not  quite 


Before  the  Ladies'  Aid  127 

pleasant,  so  that  Pollyanna  was  glad,  indeed,  when 
at  last  she  found  herself  outside  in  the  hushed,  sweet 
air  —  only  she  was  very  sorry,  too :  for  she  knew 
it  was  not  going  to  be  easy,  or  anything  but  sad, 
to  tell  Jimmy  Bean  to-morrow  that  the  Ladies'  Aid 
had  decided  that  they  would  rather  send  all  their 
money  to  bring  up  the  little  India  boys  than  to 
save  out  enough  to  bring  up  one  little  boy  in  their 
own  town,  for  which  they  would  not  get  "  a  bit 
of  credit  in  the  report,"  according  to  the  tall  lady 
who  wore  spectacles. 

"  Not  but  that  it's  good,  of  course,  to  send  money 
to  the  heathen,  and  I  shouldn't  want  'em  not  to 
send  some  there,"  sighed  Pollyanna  to  herself,  as 
she  trudged  sorrowfully  along.  "  But  they  acted  as 
if  little  boys  here  weren't  any  account  —  only  little 
boys  'way  off.  I  should  think,  though,  they'd  rather 
see  Jimmy  Bean  grow  —  than  just  a  report!  " 


CHAPTER    XIII 

IN    PENDLETON    WOODS 

Pollyanna  had  not  turned  her  steps  toward 
home,  when  she  left  the  chapel.  She  had  turned 
them,  instead,  toward  Pendleton  Hill.  It  had  been 
a  hard  day,  for  all  it  had  been  a  "  vacation  one  "  (as 
she  termed  the  infrequent  days  when  there  was  no 
sewing  or  cooking  lesson),  and  Pollyanna  was  sure 
that  nothing  would  do  her  quite  so  much  good  as 
a  walk  through  the  green  quiet  of  Pendleton  Woods. 
Up  Pendleton  Hill,  therefore,  she  climbed  steadily, 
in  spite  of  the  warm  sun  on  her  back. 

"  I  don't  have  to  get  home  till  half-past  five,  any- 
way," she  was  telling  herself;  "  and  it'll  be  so  much 
nicer  to  go  around  by  the  way  of  the  woods,  even 
if  I  do  have  to  climb  to  get  there." 

It  was  very  beautiful  in  the  Pendleton  Woods,  as 
Pollyanna  knew  by  experience.  But  to-day  it 
seemed  even  more  delightful  than  ever,  notwith- 
standing her  disappointment  over  what  she  must 
tell  Jimmy  Bean  to-morrow. 

128 


In  Pendleton  Woods  129 

"  I  wish  they  were  up  here  —  all  those  ladies 
who  talked  so  loud,"  sighed  Pollyanna  to  herself, 
raising  her  eyes  to  the  patches  of  vivid  blue  between 
the  sunlit  green  of  the  tree-tops.  "  Anyhow,  if 
they  were  up  here,  I  just  reckon  they'd  change  and 
take  Jimmy  Bean  for  their  little  boy,  all  right,"  she 
finished,  secure  in  her  conviction,  but  unable  to  give 
a  reason  for  it,  even  to  herself. 

Suddenly  Pollyanna  lifted  her  head  and  listened. 
A  dog  had  barked  some  distance  ahead.  A  moment 
later  he  came  dashing  toward  her,  still  barking. 

"Hullo,  doggie  —  hullo!"  Pollyanna  snapped 
her  fingers  at  the  dog  and  looked  expectantly  down 
the  path.  She  had  seen  the  dog  once  before,  she 
was  sure.  He  had  been  then  with  the  Man,  Mr. 
John  Pendleton.  She  was  looking  now,  hoping  to 
see  him.  For  some  minutes  she  watched  eagerly, 
but  he  did  not  appear.  Then  she  turned  her  atten- 
tion toward  the  dog. 

The  dog,  as  even  Pollyanna  could  see,  was  acting 
strangely.  He  was  still  barking  —  giving  little 
short,  sharp  yelps,  as  if  of  alarm.  He  was  running 
back  and  forth,  too,  in  the  path  ahead.  Soon  they 
reached  a  side  path,  and  down  this  the  little  dog 
fairly  flew,  only  to  come  back  at  once,  whining  and 
barking. 


130  Pollyanna 

"  Ho !  That  isn't  the  way  home,"  laughed  Polly- 
anna, still  keeping  to  the  main  path. 

The  little  dog  seemed  frantic  now.  Back  and 
forth,  back  and  forth,  between  Pollyanna  and  the 
side  path  he  vibrated,  barking  and  whining  pitifully.) 
Every  quiver  of  his  little  brown  body,  and  every 
glance  from  his  beseeching  brown  eyes  were  elo- 
quent with  appeal  —  so  eloquent  that  at  last  Polly- 
anna understood,  turned,  and  followed  him. 

Straight  ahead,  now,  the  little  dog  dashed  madly ; 
and  it  was  not  long  before  Pollyanna  came  upon 
the  reason  for  it  all :  a  man  lying  motionless  at  the 
foot  of  a  steep,  overhanging  mass  of  rock  a  few 
yards  from  the  side  path. 

A  twig  cracked  sharply  under  Pollyanna's  foot, 
and  the  man  turned  his  head.  With  a  cry  of  dis- 
may Pollyanna  ran  to  his  side. 

"  Mr.  Pendleton !     Oh,  are  you  hurt  ?  " 

"Hurt?  Oh,  no!  I'm  just  taking  a  siesta  in 
the  sunshine,"  snapped  the  man  irritably.  "  See 
here,  how  much  do  you  know?  What  can  you  do? 
Have  you  got  any  sense?  " 

Pollyanna  caught  her  breath  with  a  little  gasp, 
but  —  as  was  her  habit  —  she  answered  the  ques- 
tions literally,  one  by  one. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Pendleton,  I  —  I  don't  know  so  very 


In  Pendleton  Woods  131 

much,  and  I  can't  do  a  great  many  things;  but 
most  of  the  Ladies'  Aiders,  except  Mrs.  Rawson, 
said  I  had  real  good  sense.  I  heard  'em  say  so  one 
day  —  they  didn't  know  I  heard,  though." 

The  man  smiled  grimly. 

"  There,  there,  child,  I  beg  your  pardon,  I'm 
sure;  it's  only  this  confounded  leg  of  mine.  Now 
listen."  He  paused,  and  with  some  difficulty 
reached  his  hand  into  his  trousers  pocket  and 
brought  out  a  bunch  of  keys,  singling  out  one  be- 
tween his  thumb  and  forefinger.  "  Straight 
through  the  path  there,  about  five  minutes'  walk,  is 
my  house.  This  key  will  admit  you  to  the  side  door 
under  the  porte-cochere.  Do  you  know  what  a 
porte-cochere  is  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir.  Auntie  has  one  with  a  sun  parlor 
over  it.  That's  the  roof  I  slept  on  —  only  I  didn't 
sleep,  you  know.     They  found  me." 

"  Eh  ?  Oh !  Well,  when  you  get  into  the  house, 
go  straight  through  the  vestibule  and  hall  to  the 
door  at  the  end.  On  the  big,  flat-topped  desk  in 
the  middle  of  the  room  you'll  find  a  telephone.  Do 
you  know  how  to  use  a  telephone?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir !    Why,  once  when  Aunt  Polly  —  " 

"  Never  mind  Aunt  Polly  now,"  cut  in  t\ie  man 
scowlingly,   as  he  tried  to  move  himself  a  little. 


132  Pollyanna 

"  Hunt  up  Dr.  Thomas  Chilton's  number  on  the 
card  you'll  find  somewhere  around  there  —  it  ought 
to  be  on  the  hook  down  at  the  side,  but  it  probably 
won't  be.  You  know  a  telephone  card,  I  suppose, 
when  you  see  one !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir!  I  just  love  Aunt  Polly's.  There's 
such  a  lot  of  queer  names,  and  —  " 

"  Tell  Dr.  Chilton  that  John  Pendleton  is  at  the 
foot  of  Little  Eagle  Ledge  in  Pendleton  Woods 
with  a  broken  leg,  and  to  come  at  once  with  a 
stretcher  and  two  men.  He'll  know  what  to  do 
besides  that.  Tell  him  to  come  by  the  path  from 
the  house." 

"  A  broken  leg  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Pendleton,  how  per- 
fectly awful !  "  shuddered  Pollyanna.  "  But  I'm  so 
glad  I  came !    Can't  I  do  —  " 

"  Yes,  you  can  —  but  evidently  you  won't !  Will 
you  go  and  do  what  I  ask  and  stop  talking,"  moaned 
the  man,  faintly.  And,  with  a  little  sobbing  cry, 
Pollyanna  went. 

Pollyanna  did  not  stop  now  to  look  up  at  the 
patches  of  blue  between  the  sunlit  tops  of  the  trees. 
She  kept  her  eyes  on  the  ground  to  make  sure  that 
no  twig  nor  stone  tripped  her  hurrying  feet. 

It  was  not  long  before  she  came  in  sight  of  the 
house.     She  had  seen  it  before,  though  never  so 


In  Pendleton  Woods  135 

es  —  i  — i 

near  as  this.  She  was  almost  frightened  now  a* 
the  massiveness  of  the  great  pile  of  gray  stone  with 
its  pillared  verandas  and  its  imposing  entrance. 
Pausing  only  a  moment,  however,  she  sped  across 
the  big  neglected  lawn  and  around  the  house  to  the 
side  door  under  the  porte-cochere.  Her  fingers, 
stiff  from  their  tight  clutch  upon  the  keys,  were  any- 
thing but  skilful  in  their  efforts  to  turn  the  bolt  in 
the  lock ;  but  at  last  the  heavy,  carved  door  swung 
slowly  back  on  its  hinges. 

Pollyanna  caught  her  breath.  In  spite  of  her 
feeling  of  haste,  she  paused  a  moment  and  looked 
fearfully  through  the  vestibule  to  the  wide,  sombre 
hall  beyond,  her  thoughts  in  a  whirl.  This  wa 
John  Pendleton's  house;  the  house  of  mystery ;  the 
house  into  which  no  one  but  its  master  entered ;  the 
house  which  sheltered,  somewhere  —  a  skeleton. 
Yet  she,  Pollyanna,  was  expected  to  enter  alone 
these  fearsome  rooms,  and  telephone  the  doctor  that 
the  master  of  the  house  lay  now  — 

With  a  little  cry  Pollyanna,  looking  neither  to 
the  right  nor  the  left,  fairly  ran  through  the  hall 
to  the  door  at  the  end  and  opened  it. 

The  room  was  large,  and  sombre  with  dark  woods 
and  hangings  like  the  hall ;  but  through  the  west 
window  the  sun  threw  a  long  shaft  pi  gold  across 


134  Poliyanna 

the  floor,  gleamed  dully  on  the  tarnished  brass  and- 
irons in  the  fireplace,  and  touched  the  nickel  of  the 
telephone  on  the  great  desk  in  the  middle  of  the 
room.  It  was  toward  this  desk  that  Poliyanna 
hurriedly  tiptoed. 

The  telephone  card  was  not  on  its  hook;  it  was 
on  the  floor.  But  Poliyanna  found  it,  and  ran  her 
shaking  forefinger  down  through  the  C's  to  "  Chil- 
ton." In  due  time  she  had  Dr.  Chilton  himself  at 
the  other  end  of  the  wires,  and  was  tremblingly 
delivering  her  message  and  answering  the  doctor's 
terse,  pertinent  questions.  This  done,  she  hung  up 
the  receiver  and  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief 

Only  a  brief  glance  did  Poliyanna  give  about  her; 
then,  with  a  confused  vision  in  her  eyes  of  crimson 
draperies,  book-lined  walls,  a  littered  floor,  an  un- 
tidy desk,  innumerable  closed  doors  (any  one  of 
which  might  conceal  a  skeleton),  and  everywhere 
dust,  dust,  dust,  she  fled  back  through  the  hall  to 
the  great  carved  door,  still  half  open  as  she  had 
left  it. 

In  what  seemed,  even  to  the  injured  man,  an  in- 
credibly short  time,  Poliyanna  was  back  in  the 
woods  at  the  man's  side. 

M  Well,  what  is  the  trouble  ?  Couldn't  you  get 
in  ?  "  he  demanded., 


In  Pendleton  Woods  135 


Pollyanna  opened  wide  her  eyes. 

".Why,  of  course  I  could!  I'm  here/*  she  an- 
swered. "  As  if  I'd  be  here  if  I  hadn't  got  in !  And 
the  doctor  will  be  right  up  just  as  soon  as  possible 
with  the  men  and  things.  He  said  he  knew  just 
where  you  were,  so  I  didn't  stay  to  show  him.  I 
wanted  to  be  with  you." 

"  Did  you  ?  "  smiled  the  man,  grimly.  "  Well,  I 
can't  say  I  admire  your  taste.  I  should  think  you 
might  find  pleasanter  companions." 

"Do  you  mean  —  because  you're  so  —  cross?" 

"  Thanks  for  your  frankness.    Yes." 

Pollyanna  laughed  softly. 

"  But  you're  only  cross  outside  —  you  aren't 
cross  inside  a  bit !  " 

"  Indeed !  How  do  you  know  that  ?  "  asked  the 
man,  trying  to  change  the  position  of  his  head  with- 
out moving  the  rest  of  his  body. 

"  Oh,  lots  of  ways;  there  —  like  that  —  the  way 
you  act  with  the  dog,"  she  added,  pointing  to  the 
long,  slender  hand  that  rested  on  the  dog's  sleek 
head  near  him.  "  It's  funny  how  dogs  and  cats 
know  the  insides  of  folks  better  than  other  folks 
do,  isn't  it?  Say,  I'm  going  to  hold  your  head," 
she  finished  abruptly. 

The  man  winced  several  times  and  groaned  once 


136  Pollyanna 

softly  while  the  change  was  being  made ;  but  in  the 
end  he  found  Pollyanna's  lap  a  very  welcome  sub- 
stitute for  the  rocky  hollow  in  which  his  head  had 
lain  before. 

"  Well,  that  is  —  better,"  he  murmured  faintly. 

He  did  not  speak  again  for  some  time.  Polly- 
anna,  watching  his  face,  wondered  if  he  were  asleep. 
She  did  not  think  he  was.  He  looked  as  if  his  lips 
were  tight  shut  to  keep  back  moans  of  pain.  Polly- 
anna  herself  almost  cried  aloud  as  she  looked  at 
his  great,  strong  body  lying  there  so  helpless.  One 
hand,  with  fingers  tightly  clenched,  lay  outflung, 
motionless.  The  other,  limply  open,  lay  on  the 
dog's  head.  The  dog,  his  wistful,  eager  eyes  on  his 
master's  face,  was  motionless,  too. 
1 1  Minute  by  minute  the  time  passed.  The  sun 
dropped  lower  in  the  west  and  the  shadows  grew 
deeper  under  the  trees.  Pollyanna  sat  so  still  she 
hardly  seemed  to  breathe.  A  bird  alighted  fear- 
lessly within  reach  of  her  hand,  and  a  squirrel 
whisked  his  bushy  tail  on  a  tree-branch  almost 
under  her  nose  —  yet  with  his  bright  little  eyes  all 
the  while  on  the  motionless  dog. 

At  last  the  dog  pricked  up  his  ears  and  whined 
softly;  then  he  gave  a  short,  sharp  bark.  The 
next  moment  Pollyanna  heard  voices,  and  very  soon 


In  Pendleton  Woods  13? 


their  owners  appeared  —  three  men  carrying  a 
stretcher  and  various  other  articles. 

The  tallest  of  the  party — a  smooth-shaven, 
kind-eyed  man  whom  Pollyanna  knew  by  sight  as 
"  Dr.  Chilton  "  —  advanced  cheerily. 

"  Well,  my  little  lady,  playing  nurse?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  sir,"  smiled  Pollyanna.  "  I've  only 
held  his  head  —  I  haven't  given  him  a  mite  of  med- 
icine.   But  I'm  glad  I  was  here." 

"  So  am  I,"  nodded  the  doctor,  as  he  turned  his 
absorbed  attention  to  the  injured  man. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

JUST   A    MATTER    OF   JELLY 

Pollyanna  was  a  little  late  for  supper  on  the 
night  of  the  accident  to  John  Pendleton ;  but,  as  it 
happened,  she  escaped  without  reproof. 

Nancy  met  her  at  the  door. 

"  Well,  if  I  ain't  glad  ter  be  settin'  my  two  eyes 
on  you,"  she  sighed  in  obvious  relief.  "  It's  half- 
past  six!  " 

"  I  know  it,"  admitted  Pollyanna  anxiously ;  "  but 
I'm  not  to  blame  —  truly  I'm  not.  And  I  don't 
think  even  Aunt  Polly  will  say  I  am,  either." 

"  She  won't  have  the  chance,"  retorted  Nancy, 
with  huge  satisfaction.     "  She's  gone." 

"  Gone !  "  gasped  Pollyanna.  "  You  don't  mean 
that  I've  driven  her  away  ?  "  Through  Pollyanna's 
mind  at  the  moment  trooped  remorseful  memories 
of  the  morning  with  its  unwanted  boy,  cat,  and 
dog,  and  its  unwelcome  "  glad "  and  forbidden 
"  father  "  that  would  spring  to  her  forgetful  little 
tongue.     "  Oh,  I  didn't  drive  her  away  ?  " 

138 


Just  a  Matter  of  Jelly  139 

"  Not  much  you  did,"  scoffed  Nancy.  "  Her 
cousin  died  suddenly  down  to  Boston,  and  she  had 
ter  go.  She  had  one  o'  them  yeller  telegram  letters 
after  you  went  away  this  afternoon,  and  she  won't 
be  back  for  three  days.  Now  I  guess  we're  glad 
all  right.  We'll  be  keepin'  house  tergether,  jest  you 
and  me,  all  that  time.    We  will,  we  will!  " 

Pollyanna  looked  shocked. 

"  Glad !    Oh,  Nancy,  when  it's  a  funeral  ?  " 

"  Oh,  but  'twa'n't  the  funeral  I  was  glad  for,  Miss 
Pollyanna.  It  was  —  "  Nancy  stopped  abruptly. 
A  shrewd  twinkle  came  into  her  eyes.  "  Why,  Miss 
Pollyanna,  as  if  it  wa'n't  yerself  that  was  teachin' 
me  ter  play  the  game,"  she  reproached  her  gravely. 

Pollyanna  puckered  her  forehead  into  a  troubled 
frown. 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Nancy,"  she  argued  with  a  shake 
of  her  head.  "  It  must  be  that  there  are  some  things 
that  'tisn't  right  to  play  the  game  on  —  and  I'm  sure 
funerals  is  one  of  them.  There's  nothing  in  a  fu- 
neral to  be  glad  about." 

Nancy  chuckled. 

"  We  can  be  glad  'tain't  our'n,"  she  observed  de- 
murely. But  Pollyanna  did  not  hear.  She  had 
begun  to  tell  of  the  accident;  and  in  a  moment 
Nancy,  open-mouthed,  was  listening. 


140  Foliyanna 

At  the  appointed  place  the  next  afternoon,  Polly- 
anna  met  Jimmy  Bean  according  to  agreement.  As 
was  to  be  expected,  of  course,  Jimmy  showed  keen 
disappointment  that  the  Ladies'  Aid  preferred  a 
little  India  boy  to  himself. 

"Well,  maybe  'tis  natural,"  he  sighed.  "Of 
course  things  you  don't  know  about  are  always 
nicer'n  things  you  do,  same  as  the  pertater  on  'tother 
side  of  the  plate  is  always  the  biggest.  But  I  wish 
I  looked  that  way  ter  somebody  'way  off.  Wouldn't 
it  be  jest  great,  now,  if  only  somebody  over  in  India 
wanted  met " 

Pollyanna  clapped  her  hands. 

"  Why,  of  course !  That's  the  very  thing,  Jimmy ! 
I'll  write  to  my  Ladies'  Aiders  about  you.  They 
aren't  over  in  India ;  they're  only  out  West  —  but 
that's  awful  far  away,  just  the  same.  I  reckon 
you'd  think  so  if  you'd  come  all  the  way  here  as  I 
did!" 

Jimmy's  face  brightened. 

"  Do  you  think  they  would  —  truly  —  take  me  ? ?s 
he  asked. 

"  Of  course  they  would !  Don't  they  take  little 
boys  in  India  to  bring  up?  Well,  they  can  just 
play  you  are  the  little  India  boy  this  time.  I  reckon 
you're  far  enough  away  to  make  a  report,  all  right. 


Just  a  Matter  of  Jelly  141 

You  wait.  I'll  write  'em.  I'll  write  Mrs.  White. 
No,  I'll  write  Mrs.  Jones.  Mrs.  White  has  got  the 
most  money,  but  Mrs.  Jones  gives  the  most  —  which 
is  kind  of  funny,  isn't  it?  —  when  you  think  of  it. 
But  I  reckon  some  of  the  Aiders  will  take  you." 

"  All  right  —  but  don't  furgit  ter  say  I'll  work 
fur  my  board  an'  keep,"  put  in  Jimmy.  "  I  ain't 
no  beggar,  an'  biz'ness  is  biz'ness,  even  with  Ladies' 
Aiders,  I'm  thinkin'."  He  hesitated,  then  added : 
"  An'  I  s'pose  I  better  stay  where  I  be  fur  a  spell 
yet  —  till  you  hear." 

"  Of  course,"  nodded  Pollyanna  emphatically. 
"  Then  I'll  know  just  where  to  find  you.  And 
they'll  take  you  —  I'm  sure  you're  far  enough  away 
for  that.  Didn't  Aunt  Polly  take  —  Say !  "  she 
broke  off,  suddenly,  "  do  you  suppose  I  was  Aunt 
Polly's  little  girl  from  India?  " 

"  Well,  if  you  ain't  the  queerest  kid,"  grinned 
Jimmy,  as  he  turned  away. 

It  was  about  a  week  after  the  accident  in  Pendle- 
ton Woods  that  Pollyanna  said  to  her  aunt  one 
morning : 

"  Aunt  Polly,  please  would  you  mind  very  mucn 
if  I  took  Mrs.  Snow's  calf's-foot  jelly  this  week  to 
some  one  else?  I'm  sure  Mrs.  Snow  wouldn't  — 
this  once." 


142  Pollyanna 


"  Dear  me,  Pollyanna,  what  are  you  up  to  now?  " 
sighed  her  aunt.  "  You  are  the  most  extraordinary 
child!" 

Pollyanna  frowned  a  little  anxiously. 

"Aunt  Polly,  please,  what  is  extraordinary?  If 
you're  £\rtraordinary  you  can't  be  ordinary,  can 
you?" 

"  You  certainly  can  not." 

'*  Oh,  that's  all  right,  then.  I'm  glad  I'm  ex- 
traurdinary,"  sighed  Pollyanna,  her  face  clearing. 
"  You  see,  Mrs.  White  used  to  say  Mrs.  Rawson 
was  a  very  ordinary  woman  —  and  she  disliked 
Mrs.  Rawson  something  awful.  They  were  always 
fight —  I  mean,  father  had  —  that  is,  I  mean,  we 
had  more  trouble  keeping  peace  between  them  than 
we  did  between  any  of  the  rest  of  the  Aiders,"  cor- 
rected Pollyanna,  a  little  breathless  from  her  efforts 
to  steer  between  the  Scylla  of  her  father's  past 
commands  in  regard  to  speaking  of  church  quarrels, 
and  the  Charybdis  of  her  aunt's  present  commands 
in  regard  to  speaking  of  her  father. 

"  Yes,  yes ;  well,  never  mind,"  interposed  Aunt 
Polly,  a  trifle  impatiently.  "  You  do  run  on  so, 
Pollyanna,  and  no  matter  what  we're  talking  about 
you  always  bring  up  at  those  Ladies'  Aiders!" 

"  Yes'm,"     smiled     Pollyanna,     cheerfully,     "  I 


Just  a  Matter  of  Jelly  148 

reckon  I  do,  maybe.  But  you  see  they  used  to  bring 
me  up,  and  —  " 

"  That  will  do,  Pollyanna,"  interrupted  a  cold 
voice.    "  Now  what  is  it  about  this  jelly?  " 

"  Nothing,  Aunt  Polly,  truly,  that  you  would 
mind,  I'm  sure.  You  let  me  take  jelly  to  her,  so  I 
thought  you  would  to  him  —  this  once.  You  see, 
broken  legs  aren't  like  —  like  lifelong  invalids,  so 
his  won't  last  forever  as  Mrs.  Snow's  does,  and 
she  can  have  all  the  rest  of  the  things  after  just 
once  or  twice." 

"'Him'?  'He'?  'Broken  leg'?  What  are 
you  talking  about,  Pollyanna  ?  " 

Pollyanna  stared;   then  her  face  relaxed. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot.  I  reckon  you  didn't  know.  You 
see,  it  happened  while  you  were  gone.  It  was  the 
very  day  you  went  that  I  found  him  in  the  woods, 
you  know;  and  I  had  to  unlock  his  house  and  tele- 
phone for  the  men  and  the  doctor,  and  hold  his 
head,  and  everything.  And  of  course  then  I  came 
away  and  haven't  seen  him  since.  But  when  Nancy 
made  the  jelly  for  Mrs.  Snow  this  week  I  thought 
how  nice  it  would  be  if  I  could  take  it  to  him  in- 
stead of  her,  just  this  once.    Aunt  Polly,  may  I?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  suppose  so,"  acquiesced  Miss  Polly, 
a  little  wearily.    "  Who  did  you  say  he  was  ?  " 


144  .roHyanna 

"  The  Man.    I  mean,  Mr.  John  Pendleton." 

Miss  Polly  almost  sprang  from  her  chair. 

"  John  Pendleton  I  " 

"  Yes.  Nancy  told  me  his  name.  Maybe  you 
know  him." 

Miss  Polly  did  not  answer  this.  Instead  she 
asked : 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

Pollyanna  nodded. 

"  Oh,  yes.  He  always  speaks  and  smiles  —  now. 
He's  only  cross  outside,  you  know.  I'll  go  and  get 
the  jelly.  Nancy  had  it  'most  fixed  when  I  came 
in,"  finished  Pollyanna,  already  halfway  across  the 
room. 

"  Pollyanna,  wait !  "  Miss  Polly's  voice  was 
suddenly  very  stern.  "  I've  changed  my  mind.  I 
would  prefer  that  Mrs.  Snow  had  that  jelly  to-day 
—  as  usual.     That  is  all.    You  may  go  now." 

Pollyanna's  face  fell. 

"  Oh,  but  Aunt  Polly,  hers  will  last.  She  can 
always  be  sick  and  have  things,  you  know;  but  his 
is  just  a  broken  leg.,  and  legs  don't  last  —  I 
mean,  broken  ones.  He's  had  it  a  whole  week 
now." 

"  Yes,  I  remember.  I  heard  Mr.  John  Pendleton 
had  met  with  an  accident,"  said  Miss  Polly,  a  little 


Just  a  Matter  of  Jelly  145 

stiffly;  "  but  —  I  do  not  care  to  be  sending  jelly  to 
John  Pendleton,  Pollyanna." 

"  I  know,  he  is  cross  —  outside,"  admitted  Polly- 
anna, sadly,  "  so  I  suppose  you  don't  like  him.  But 
I  wouldn't  say  'twas  you  sent  it.  I'd  say  'twas  me. 
I  like  him.     I'd  be  glad  to  send  him  jelly." 

Miss  Polly  began  to  shake  her  head  again.  Then, 
suddenly,  she  stopped,  and  asked  in  a  curiously  quiet 
voice : 

"  Does  he  know  who  you  —  are,  Pollyanna?  " 

The  little  girl  sighed. 

"  I  reckon  not.  I  told  him  my  name,  once,  but 
he  never  calls  me  it  —  never." 

"  Does  he  know  where  you  —  live  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.     I  never  told  him  that." 

"  Then  he  doesn't  know  you're  my  —  niece?  " 

"  I  don't  think  so." 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence.  Miss  Polly  was 
looking  at  Pollyanna  with  eyes  that  did  not  seem 
to  see  her  at  all.  The  little  girl,  shifting  impa- 
tiently from  one  small  foot  to  the  other,  sighed 
audibly.  Then  Miss  Polly  roused  herself  with  a 
start. 

"  Very  well,  Pollyanna,"  she  said  at  last,  still  in 
that  queer  voice,  so  unlike  her  own;  "  you  may  — 
you  may  take  the  jelly  to  Mr.  Pendleton  as  your 


146  Pollyanna 

own  gift.     But  understand:    I  do  not  send  it.     Be 
very  sure  that  he  does  not  think  I  do !  " 

"  Yes'm  —  no'm  —  thank  you,  Aunt  Polly,"  ex- 
ulted Pollyanna,  as  she  flew  through  the  door. 


CHAPTER    XV 

DR.    CHILTON 

The  great  gray  pile  of  masonry  looked  very  dif- 
ferent to  Pollyanna  when  she  made  her  second  visit 
to  the  house  of  Mr.  John  Pendleton.  Windows 
were  open,  an  elderly  woman  was  hanging  out 
clothes  in  the  back  yard,  and  the  doctor's  gig  stood 
under  the  porte-cochere. 

As  before  Pollyanna  went  to  the  side  door.  This 
time  she  rang  the  bell  —  her  fingers  were  not  stiff 
to-day  from  a  tight  clutch  on  a  bunch  of  keys. 

A  familiar-looking  small  dog  bounded  up  the 
steps  to  greet  her,  but  there  was  a  slight  delay  be- 
fore the  woman  who  had  been  hanging  out  the 
clothes  opened  the  door. 

"  If  you  please,  I've  brought  some  calf's-foot 
jelly  for  Mr.  Pendleton,"  smiled  Pollyanna. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  woman,  reaching  for  the 
bowl  in  the  little  girl's  hand.  "  Who  shall  I  say 
sent  it?    And  it's  calf's-foot  jelly?  " 

The  doctor,  coming  into  the  hall  at  that  moment, 
147 


148  Pollyanna 

heard  the  woman's  words  and  saw  the  disappointed 
look  on  Pollyanna's  face.  He  stepped  quickly  for- 
ward. 

"Ah!  Some  calf's-foot  jelly?"  he  asked  geni- 
ally. "  That  will  be  fine !  Maybe  you'd  like  to  see 
our  patient,  eh?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,"  beamed  Pollyanna ;  and  the 
woman,  in  obedience  to  a  nod  from  the  doctor,  led 
the  way  down  the  hall  at  once,  though  plainly  with 
vast  surprise  on  her  face. 

Behind  the  doctor,  a  young  man  (a  trained  nurse 
from  the  nearest  city)  gave  a  disturbed  exclamation. 

"  But,  Doctor,  didn't  Mr.  Pendleton  give  orders 
not  to  admit  —  any  one  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  nodded  the  doctor,  imperturbably. 
"  But  I'm  giving  orders  now.  I'll  take  the  risk." 
Then  he  added  whimsically :  "  You  don't  know,  of 
course ;  but  that  little  girl  is  better  than  a  six-quart 
bottle  of  tonic  any  day.  If  an}^thing  or  anybody 
can  take  the  grouch  out  of  Pendleton  this  afternoon, 
she  can.    That's  why  I  sent  her  in." 

"Who  is  she?" 

For  one  brief  moment  the  doctor  hesitated. 

"  She's  the  niece  of  one  of  our  best  known  resi- 
dents. Her  name  is  Pollyanna  Whittier.  I  —  I 
don't  happen  to  enjoy  a  very  extensive  personal  ac- 


Dr.  Chilton  149 


quaintance  with  the  little  lady  as  yet;  but  lots  of 
my  patients  do  —  I'm  thankful  to  say!  " 

The  nurse  smiled. 

"  Indeed !  And  what  are  the  special  ingredients 
of  this  wonder-working  —  tonic  of  hers  ?  " 

The  doctor  shook  his  head. 

"  I  don't  know.  As  near  as  I  can  find  out  it  is 
an  overwhelming,  unquenchable  gladness  for  every- 
thing that  has  happened  or  is  going  to  happen.  At 
any  rate,  her  quaint  speeches  are  constantly  being 
repeated  to  me,  and,  as  near  as  I  can  make  out, 
*  just  being  glad  '  is  the  tenor  of  most  of  them. 
All  is,"  he  added,  with  another  whimsical  smile,  as 
he  stepped  out  on  to  the  porch,  "  I  wish  I  could 
prescribe  her  —  and  buy  her  —  as  I  would  a  box 
of  pills;  —  though  if  there  gets  to  be  many  oi  he*" 
in  the  world,  you  and  I  might  as  well  go  to  ribbon- 
selling  and  ditch-digging  for  all  the  money  we'd 
get  out  of  nursing  and  doctoring,"  he  laughed,  pick- 
ing up  the  reins  and  stepping  into  the  gig. 

Pollyanna,  meanwhile,  in  accordance  with  the 
doctor's  orders,  was  being  escorted  to  John  Pendle- 
ton's rooms. 

Her  way  led  through  the  great  library  at  the  end 
of  the  hall,  and,  rapid  as  was  her  progress  through 
it,  Pollyanna  saw  at  once  that  great  changes  had 


150  Pollyanna 

taken  place.  The  book-lined  walls  and  the  crimson 
curtains  were  the  same;  but  there  was  no  litter  on 
the  floor,  no  untidiness  on  the  desk,  and  not  so  much 
as  a  grain  of  dust  in  sight.  The  telephone  card 
hung  in  its  proper  place,  and  the  brass  andirons  had 
been  polished.  One  of  the  mysterious  doors  was 
open,  and  it  was  toward  this  that  the  maid  led  the 
way.  A  moment  later  Pollyanna  found  herself  in 
a  sumptuously  furnished  bedroom  while  the  maid 
was  saying  in  a  frightened  voice : 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  here  —  here's  a  little  girl  with 
some  jelly.  The  doctor  said  I  was  to  —  to  bring 
her  in." 

The  next  moment  Pollyanna  found  herself  alone 
with  a  very  cross-looking  man  lying  flat  on  his  back 
m  bed. 

"  See  here,  didn't  I  say  —  "  began  an  angry  voice. 
"  Oh,  it's  you !  "  it  broke  off  not  very  graciously,  as 
Pollyanna  advanced  toward  the  bed. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  smiled  Pollyanna.  "  Oh,  I'm  so  glad 
they  let  me  in !  You  see,  at  first  the  lady  'most  took 
my  jelly,  and  I  was  so  afraid  I  wasn't  going  to  see 
you  at  all.  Then  the  doctor  came,  and  he  said  I 
might.    Wasn't  he  lovely  to  let  me  see  you?  " 

In  spite  of  himself  the  man's  lips  twitched  into 
a  smile ;  but  all  he  said  was  "  Humph !  " 


Dr.  Chilton  151 


"  And  I've  brought  you  some  jelly,"  resumed 
Pollyanna;  "  —  calf's-foot.  I  hope  you  like  it?" 
There  was  a  rising  inflection  in  her  voice. 

"  Never  ate  it."  The  fleeting  smile  had  gone, 
and  the  scowl  had  come  back  to  the  man's  face. 

For  a  brief  instant  Pollyanna's  countenance 
showed  disappointment ;  but  it  cleared  as  she  set 
the  bowl  of  jelly  down. 

"  Didn't  you?  Well,  if  you  didn't,  then  you  can't 
know  you  don't  like  it,  anyhow,  can  you?  So  I 
reckon  I'm  glad  you  haven't,  after  all.  Now,  if 
you  knew  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  well,  there's  one  thing  I  know  all 
right,  and  that  is  that  I'm  flat  on  my  back  right 
here  this  minute,  and  that  I'm  liable  to  stay  here  — 
till  doomsday,  I  guess." 

Pollyanna  looked  shocked. 

"  Oh,  no !  It  couldn't  be  till  doomsday,  you 
know,  when  the  angel  Gabriel  blows  his  trumpet, 
unless  it  should  come  quicker  than  we  think  it  will 
—  oh,  of  course,  I  know  the  Bible  says  it  may  come 
quicker  than  we  think,  but  I  don't  think  it  will  — ■ 
that  is,  of  course  I  believe  the  Bible;  but  I  mean  I 
don't  think  it  will  come  as  much  quicker  as  it  would 
if  it  should  come  now,  and  —  " 

John  Pendleton  laughed  suddenly  —  and  aloud. 


la#  Pollyanna 


The  nurse,  coming  in  at  that  moment,  heard  the 
laugh,  and  beat  a  hurried  —  but  a  very  silent  — 
retreat.  He  had  the  air  of  a  frightened  cook  who, 
seeing  the  danger  of  a  breath  of  cold  air  striking 
a  half-done  cake,  hastily  shuts  the  oven  door. 

"  Aren't  you  getting  a  little  mixed?  "  asked  John 
Pendleton  of  Pollyanna. 

The  little  girl  laughed. 

"  Maybe.  But  what  I  mean  is,  that  legs  don't 
last  —  broken  ones,  you  know  —  like  lifelong  inva- 
lids, same  as  Mrs.  Snow  has  got.  So  yours  won't 
last  till  doomsday  at  all.  I  should  think  you  could 
be  glad  of  that." 

"  Oh,  I  am,"  retorted  the  man  grimly. 

"  And  you  didn't  break  but  one.  You  can  be  glad 
'twasn't  two."    Pollyanna  was  warming  to  her  task. 

"Of  course!  So  fortunate,"  sniffed  the  man, 
with  uplifted  eyebrows ;  "  looking  at  it  from  that 
standpoint,  I  suppose  I  might  be  glad  I  wasn't  a 
centipede  a/id  didn't  break  fifty!  " 

Pollyanna  chuckled. 

"  Oh,  that's  the  best  yet,"  she  crowed.  "  I  know 
what  a  centipede  is ;  they've  got  lots  of  legs.  And 
you  can  be  glad  —  " 

"  Oh,  of  course."  interrupted  the  man,  sharply, 
all  the  old  bitterness  coming  back  to  his  voice ;   "  I 


Dr.  Chilton  153 


can  be  glad,  too,  for  all  the  rest,  I  suppose  —  the 
nurse,  and  the  doctor,  and  that  confounded  woman 
in  the  kitchen !  " 

"  Why,  yes,  sir  —  only  think  how  bad  'twould  be 
if  you  didn't  have  them !  " 

"  Well,  I  —  eh?  "  he  demanded  sharply. 

"  Why,  I  say,  only  think  how  bad  it  would  be  if 
you  didn't  have  'em  —  and  you  lying"  here  like 
this!" 

"  As  if  that  wasn't  the  very  thing  that  was  at  the 
bottom  of  the  whole  matter,"  retorted  the  man, 
testily,  "  because  I  am  lying  here  like  this !  And 
yet  you  expect  me  to  say  I'm  glad  because  of  a  fool 
woman  who  disarranges  the  whole  house  and  calls 
it  '  regulating,'  and  a  man  who  aids  and  abets  her 
in  it,  and  calls  it  '  nursing,'  to  say  nothing  of  the 
doctor  who  eggs  'em  both  on  —  and  the  whole 
bunch  of  them,  meanwhile,  expecting  me  to  pay 
them  for  it,  and  pay  them  well,  too !  " 

Pollyanna  frowned  sympathetically. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  That  part  is  too  bad  —  about 
the  money  —  when  you've  been  saving  it.  too,  all 
this  time." 

"When  — eh?" 

"  Saving  it  —  buying  beans  and  fish  balls,  you 
know.      Say,    do    you    like    beans  ?  —  or    do    you 


154  Pollyanna 

■» 

like  turkey  better,  only  on  account  of  the  sixty 
cents  ?  " 

"  Look  a-here,  child,  what  are  you  talking 
about?" 

Pollyanna  smiled  radiantly. 

"  About  your  money,  you  know  —  denying  your- 
self, and  saving  it  for  the  heathen.  You  see,  I 
found  out  about  it.  Why,  Mr.  Pendleton,  that's 
one  of  the  ways  I  knew  you  weren't  cross  inside. 
Nancy  told  me." 

The  man's  jaw  dropped. 

"  Nancy  told  you  I  was  saving  money  for  the  — ■ 
Well,  may  I  inquire  who  Nancy  is?  " 

"  Our  Nancy.     She  works  for  Aunt  Polly." 

"  Aunt  Polly !     Well,  who  is  Aunt  Polly?  " 

"  She's  Miss  Polly  Harrington.    I  live  with  her." 

The  man  made  a  sudden  movement. 

"  Miss  —  Polly  —  Harrington !  "  he  breathed. 
"  You  live  with  —  her!  " 

"  Yes ;  I'm  her  niece.  She's  taken  me  to  bring 
up  —  on  account  of  my  mother,  you  know,"  fal- 
tered Pollyanna,  in  a  low  voice.  "  She  was  her 
sister.  And  after  father  —  went  to  be  with  her  and 
the  rest  of  us  in  Heaven,  there  wasn't  any  one  left 
for  me  down  here  but  the  Ladies'  Aid ;  so  she  took 
me. 


Dr.  Chilton  155 


The  man  did  not  answer.  His  face,  as  he  lay 
back  on  the  pillow  now,  was  very  white  —  so  white 
that  Pollyanna  was  frightened.  She  rose  uncer- 
tainly to  her  feet. 

"  I  reckon  maybe  I'd  better  go  now,"  she  pro- 
posed.   "I  —  I  hope  you'll  like  —  the  jelly." 

The  man  turned  his  head  suddenly,  and  opened 
his  eyes.  There  was  a  curious  longing  in  their  dark 
depths  which  even  Pollyanna  saw,  and  at  which  she 
marvelled. 

"  And  so  you  are  —  Miss  Polly  Harrington's 
niece,"  he  said  gently. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Still  the  man's  dark  eyes  lingered  on  her  face, 
until  Pollyanna,  feeling  vaguely  restless,  murmured : 

"I  —  I  suppose  you  know  —  her." 

John  Pendleton's  lips  curved  in  an  odd  smile. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  know  her."  He  hesitated,  then  went 
on,  still  with  that  curious  smile.  "  But  —  you  don't 
mean  —  you  can't  mean  that  it  was  Miss  Polly 
Harrington  who  sent  that  jelly  —  to  me?"  he  said 
slowly. 

Pollyanna  looked  distressed. 

"  N-no,  sir:  she  didn't.  She  said  I  must  be  very 
sure  not  to  let  you  think  she  did  send  it.     But 


156  Pollyanna 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  vouchsafed  the  man, 
shortly,  turning  away  his  head.  And  Pollyanna, 
still  more  distressed,  tiptoed  from  the  room. 

Under  the  porte-cochere  she  found  the  doctor 
waiting  in  his  gig.     The  nurse  stood  on  the  steps. 

"  Well,  Miss  Pollyanna,  may  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  you  home  ?  "  asked  the  doctor  smilingly. 
"  I  started  to  drive  on  a  few  minutes  ago ;  then  it 
occurred  to  me  that  I'd  wait  for  you." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I'm  glad  you  did.  I  just 
love  to  ride,"  beamed  Pollyanna,  as  he  reached  out 
his  hand  to  help  her  in. 

"  Do  you  ?  "  smiled  the  doctor,  nodding  his  head 
in  farewell  to  the  young  man  on  the  steps.  "  Well, 
as  near  as  I  can  judge,  there  are  a  good  many 
things  you  '  love  '  to  do  —  eh  ?  "  he  added,  as  they 
drove  briskly  away. 

Pollyanna  laughed. 

"  Why,  I  don't  know.  I  reckon  perhaps  there 
are,"  she  admitted.  "  I  like  to  do  'most  everything 
that's  living.  Of  course  I  don't  like  the  other 
things  very  well  —  sewing,  and  reading  out  loud, 
and  all  that.     But  they  aren't  living." 

"  No?    What  are  they,  then?  " 

"  Aunt   Polly   says   they're   '  learning  to   live/ ' 
sighed  Pollyanna,  with  a  rueful  smile. 


Dr.  Chilton  157 

The  doctor  smiled  now  —  a  little  queerly. 

"  Does  she  ?  Well,  I  should  think  she  might 
say  —  just  that." 

"  Yes,"  responded  Pollyanna.  "  But  I  don't  see 
it  that  way  at  all.  I  don't  think  you  have  to  learn 
how  to  live.     I  didn't,  anyhow." 

The  doctor  drew  a  long  sigh. 

"  After  all,  I'm  afraid  some  of  us  —  do  have  to, 
little  girl,"  he  said.  Then,  for  a  time  he  was  silent. 
Pollyanna,  stealing  a  glance  at  his  face,  felt  vaguely 
sorry  for  him.  He  looked  so  sad.  She  wished, 
uneasily,  that  she  could  "  do  something."  It  was 
this,  perhaps,  that  caused  her  to  say  in  a  timid 
voice : 

"  Dr.  Chilton,  I  should  think  being  a  doctor  would 
be  the  very  gladdest  kind  of  a  business  there  was." 

The  doctor  turned  in  surprise. 

"  '  Gladdest ' !  —  when  I  see  so  much  suffering 
always,  everywhere  I  go?"  he  cried. 

She  nodded. 

"  I  know;  but  you're  helping  it  —  don't  you  see? 
—  and  of  course  you're  glad  to  help  it!  And  so 
that  makes  you  the  gladdest  of  any  of  us,  all  the 
time." 

The  doctor's  eyes  filled  with  sudden  hot  tears. 
The  doctor's  life  was  a  singularly  lonely  one.     He 


158  Pollyanna 


had  no  wife  and  no  home  save  his  two-room  office 
in  a  boarding  house.  His  profession  was  very  dear 
to  him.  Looking  now  into  Pollyanna's  shining  eyes, 
he  felt  as  if  a  loving  hand  had  been  suddenly  laid 
on  his  head  in  blessing.  He  knew,  too,  that  never 
again  would  a  long  day's  work  or  a  long  night's 
weariness  be  quite  without  that  new-found  exalta- 
tion that  had  come  to  him  through  Pollyanna'* 
eyes. 

"  God  bless  you,  little  girl,"  he  said  unsteadily. 
Then,  with  the  bright  smile  his  patients  knew  and 
loved  so  well,  he  added :  "  And  I'm  thinking,  after 
all,  that  it  was  the  doctor,  quite  as  much  as  his 
patients,  that  needed  a  draft  of  that  tonic !  "  All 
of  which  puzzled  Pollyanna  very  much  —  until  a 
chipmunk,  running  across  the  road,  drove  the  whole 
matter  from  her  mind. 

The  doctor  left  Pollyanna  at  her  own  door, 
smiled  at  Nancy,  who  was  sweeping  off  the  front 
porch,  then  drove  rapidly  away. 

"  I've  had  a  perfectly  beautiful  ride  with  the  doc- 
tor," announced  Pollyanna,  bounding  up  the  steps. 
"He's  lovely,  Nancy!" 

"Is  he?" 

"  Yes.  And  I  told  him  I  should  think  his  busi- 
ness would  be  the  very  gladdest  one  there  was." 


Dr.  Chilton  159 


"  What !  —  goin'  ter  see  sick  folks  —  an'  folks 
what  ain't  sick  but  thinks  they  is,  which  is  worse  ?  " 
Nancy's  face  showed  open  skepticism. 

Pollyanna  laughed  gleefully. 

"  Yes.  That's  'most  what  he  said,  too ;  but  there 
is  a  wray  to  be  glad,  even  then.     Guess ! " 

Nancy  frowned  in  meditation.  Nancy  was  get- 
ting so  she  could  play  this  game  of  "  being  glad  " 
quite  successfully,  she  thought.  She  rather  en- 
joyed studying  out  Pollyanna's  "  posers,"  too,  as  she 
called  some  of  the  little  girl's  questions. 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  she  chuckled.  "  It's  just  the  op- 
posite from  what  you  told  Mis'  Snow." 

"  Opposite?  "  repeated  Pollyanna,  obviously  puz- 
zled. 

"  Yes.  You  told  her  she  could  be  glad  because 
other  folks  wasn't  like  her  —  all  sick,  you  know." 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Pollyanna. 

"  Well,  the  doctor  can  be  glad  because  he  isn't 
like  other  folks  —  the  sick  ones,  I  mean,  what  he 
doctors,"  finished  Nancy  in  triumph. 

It  was  Pollyanna's  turn  to  frown. 

"  Why,  y-yes,"  she  admitted.  "  Of  course  thai 
is  one  way,  but  it  isn't  the  way  I  said ;  and  — 
someway,  I  don't  seem  to  quite  like  the  sound  of 
it.     It  isn't  exactly  as  if  he  said  he  was  glad  they 


i60  Pollyanna 

zvere  sick,  but  —  You  do  play  the  game  so  funny, 
sometimes,  Nancy,"  she  sighed,  as  she  went  into  the 
house. 

Pollyanna  found  her  aunt  in  the  sitting  room. 

"  Who  was  that  man  —  the  one  who  drove  into 
the  yard,  Pollyanna  ?  "  questioned  the  lady  a  little 
sharply. 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  that  was  Dr.  Chilton !  Don't 
you  know  him?  " 

"  Dr.  Chilton !    What  was  he  doing  —  here?  " 

"  He  drove  me  home.  Oh,  and  I  gave  the  jelly 
to  Mr.  Pendleton,  and  —  " 

Miss  Polly  lifted  her  head  quickly. 

"  Pollyanna,  he  did  not  think  I  sent  it?" 

"  Oh,  no,  Aunt  Polly.     I  told  him  you  didn't." 

Miss  Polly  grew  a  sudden  vivid  pink. 

"You  told  him  I  didn't!" 

Pollyanna  opened  wide  her  eyes  at  the  remonstra- 
tive  dismay  in  her  aunt's  voice. 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  you  said  to !  " 

Aunt  Polly  sighed. 

"  I  said,  Pollyanna,  that  I  did  not  send  it,  and  for 
you  to  be  very  sure  that  he  did  not  think  I  did!  — - 
which  is  a  very  different  matter  from  telling  him 
outright  that  I  did  not  send  it."  And  she  turned 
vexedly  away. 


Dr.  Chilton  161 


"  Dear  me !  Well,  I  don't  see  where  the  differ- 
ence is,"  sighed  Pollyanna,  as  she  went  to  hang  her 
hat  on  the  one  particular  hook  in  the  house  upon 
which  Aunt  Polly  had  said  that  it  must  be  hung. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

A   RED   ROSE   AND  A   LACE    SHAWL 

It  was  on  a  rainy  day  about  a  week  after  Polly- 
anna's  visit  to  Mr.  John  Pendleton,  that  Miss  Polly 
was  driven  by  Timothy  to  an  early  afternoon  com- 
mittee meeting  of  the  Ladies'  Aid  Society.  When 
she  returned  at  three  o'clock,  her  cheeks  were  a 
bright,  pretty  pink,  and  her  hair,  blown  by  the 
damp  wind,  had  fluffed  into  kinks  and  curls  wher- 
ever the  loosened  pins  had  given  leave. 

Pollyanna  had  never  before  seen  her  aunt  look 
like  this. 

"  Oh  —  oh  —  oh !  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  you've  got 
'em,  too,"  she  cried  rapturously,  dancing  round  and 
round  her  aunt,  as  that  lady  entered  the  sitting 
room. 

"  Got  what,  you  impossible  child  ?  " 

Pollyanna  was  still  revolving  round  and  round 
her  aunt. 

"  And  I  nerer  knew  you  had  'em !  Can  folks 
have  'em  when  you  don't  know  they've  got  'em? 

162 


A  Red  Rose  and  a  Lace  Shawl     163 

Do  you  suppose  I  could?  —  'fore  I  get  to  Heaven. 
I  mean,"  she  cried,  pulling  out  with  eager  ringers 
the  straight  locks  above  her  ears.  "  But  then,  they 
wouldn't  be  black,  if  they  did  come.  You  can't 
hide  the  black  part." 

"  Pollyanna,  what  does  all  this  mean  ? "  de- 
manded Aunt  Polly,  hurriedly  removing  her  hat, 
and  trying  to  smooth  back  her  disordered  hair. 

"  No,  no  —  please,  Aunt  Polly !  "  Pollyanna's 
jubilant  voice  turned  to  one  of  distressed  appeal. 
"  Don't  smooth  'em  out !  It's  those  that  I'm  talking 
about  —  those  darling  little  black  curls.  Oh,  Aunt 
Polly,  they're  so  pretty !  " 

"  Nonsense !  What  do  you  mean,  Pollyanna,  by 
going  to  the  Ladies'  Aid  the  other  day  in  that  ab< 
surd  fashion  about  that  beggar  boy  ?  " 

"  But  it  isn't  nonsense,"  urged  Pollyanna,  an- 
swering only  the  first  of  her  aunt's  remarks.  "  Yorn 
don't  know  how  pretty  you  look  with  your  hair  like 
that!  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  please,  mayn't  I  do  your 
hair  like  I  did  Mrs.  Snow's,  and  put  in  a  flower? 
I'd  so  love  to  see  you  that  way!  Why,  you'd  be 
ever  so  much  prettier  than  she  was !  " 

"Pollyanna!"  (Miss  Polly  spoke  very  sharply 
—  all  the  more  sharply  because  Pollyanna's  words 
had  given  her  an  odd  throb  of  joy:    when  before 


164  Pollyanna 

had  anybody  cared  how  she,  or  her  hair  looked? 
When  before  had  anybody  "  loved "  to  see  her 
"pretty**?)  "Pollyanna,  you  did  not  answer  my 
question.  Why  did  you  go  to  the  Ladies'  Aid  in 
that  absurd  fashion  ?  " 

"  Yes'm,  I  know ;  but,  please,  I  didn't  know  it 
was  absurd  until  I  went  and  found  out  they'd  rather 
see  their  report  grow  than  Jimmy.  So  then  I  wrote 
to  my  Ladies'  Aiders  —  'cause  Jimmy  is  far  away 
from  them,  you  know;  and  I  thought  maybe  he 
could  be  their  little  India  boy  same  as  —  Aunt 
Polly,  was  I  your  little  India  girl?  And,  Aunt 
Polly,  you  will  let  me  do  your  hair,  won't 
you?" 

Aunt  Polly  put  her  hand  to  her  throat  —  the  old, 
helpless  feeling  was  upon  her,  she  knew. 

"  But,  Pollyanna,  when  the  ladies  told  me  this 
afternoon  how  you  came  to  them,  I  was  so 
ashamed !     I  —  " 

Pollyanna  began  to  dance  up  and  down  lightly 
on  her  toes. 

"You  didn't!  —  you  didn't  say  I  couldn't  do 
your  hair,"  she  crowed  triumphantly;  "and  so  I'm 
sure  it  means  just  the  other  way  'round,  sort  of — ■ 
like  it  did  the  other  day  about  Mr.  Pendleton's  jelly 
that  you  didn't  send,  but  didn't  want  me  to  say  you 


A  Red  Rose  and  a  Lace  Shawl     165 

didn't  send,  you  know.  Now  wait  just  where  you 
are.     I'll  get  a  comb." 

"  But  Pollyanna,  Pollyanna,"  remonstrated  Aunt 
Polly,  following  the  little  girl  from  the  room  and 
panting  up-stairs  after  her. 

"  Oh,  did  you  come  up  here  ? "  Pollyanna 
greeted  her  at  the  door  of  Miss  Polly's  own  room. 
"  That'll  be  nicer  yet !  I've  got  the  comb.  Now 
sit  down,  please,  right  here.  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you 
let  me  do  it!" 

"  But,  Pollyanna,  I  —  I  —  " 

Miss  Polly  did  not  finish  her  sentence.  To  her 
helpless  amazement  she  found  herself  in  the  low 
chair  before  the  dressing  table,  with  her  hair  al- 
ready tumbling  about  her  ears  under  ten  eager,  but 
very  gentle  fingers. 

"  Oh,  my !  what  pretty  hair  you've  got,"  prattled 
Pollyanna ;  "  and  there's  so  much  more  of  it  than 
Mrs.  Snow  has,  too!  But,  of  course,  you  need 
more,  anyhow,  because  you're  well  and  can  go  to 
f  laces  where  folks  can  see  it.  My !  I  reckon  f olks'll 
te  glad  when  they  do  see  it  —  and  surprised,  too, 
'cause  you've  hid  it  so  long.  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  I'll 
make  you  so  pretty  everybody '11  just  love  to  look 
at  you !  " 

"  Pollyanna !  "  gasped  a  stifled  but  shocked  voice 


166  Pollyanna 

from  a  veil  of  hair.  "I  —  I'm  sure  I  don't  knov» 
why  I'm  letting  you  do  this  silly  thing." 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  I  should  think  you'd  be  glad 
to  have  folks  like  to  look  at  you!  Don't  you  like 
to  look  at  pretty  things  ?  I'm  ever  so  much  happier 
when  I  look  at  pretty  folks,  'cause  when  I  look  at 
the  other  kind  I'm  so  sorry  for  them." 

"But  — but  — " 

"  And  I  just  love  to  do  folks'  hair,"  purred  Polly- 
anna, contentedly.  "  I  did  quite  a  lot  of  the  Ladies' 
Aiders'  —  but  there  wasn't  any  of  them  so  nice  as 
yours.  Mrs.  White's  was  pretty  nice,  though,  and 
she  looked  just  lovely  one  day  when  I  dressed  her 
up  in —  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  I've  just  happened  to 
think  of  something!  But  it's  a  secret,  and  I  sha'n't 
tell.  Now  your  hair  is  almost  done,  and  pretty 
quick  I'm  going  to  leave  you  just  a  minute;  and 
you  must  promise  —  promise  —  promise  not  to  stir 
nor  peek,  even,  till  I  come  back.  Now  remember !  " 
she  finished,  as  she  ran  from  the  room. 

Aloud  Miss  Polly  said  nothing.  To  herself  she 
said  that  of  course  she  should  at  once  undo  the 
absurd  work  of  her  niece's  fingers,  and  put  her  hair 
up  properly  again.  As  for  "  peeking  "  —  just  as  if 
she  cared  how  — 

At  that  moment  —  unaccountably  —  Miss  Polly 


A  Red  Rose  and  a  Lace  Shawl     167 

caught  a  glimpse  of  herself  in  the  mirror  of  the 
dressing  table.  And  what  she  saw  sent  such  a  flush 
of  rosy  color  to  her  cheeks  that  —  she  only  flushed 
the  more  at  the  sight. 

She  saw  a  face  —  not  young,  it  is  true  —  but  just 
flow  alight  with  excitement  and  surprise.  The 
cheeks  were  a  pretty  pink.  The  eyes  sparkled.  The 
hair,  dark,  and  still  damp  from  the  outdoor  air,  lay 
in  loose  waves  about  the  forehead  and  curved  back 
over  the  ears  in  wonderfully  becoming  lines,  with 
softening  little  curls  here  and  there. 

So  amazed  and  so  absorbed  was  Miss  Polly  with 
what  she  saw  in  the  glass  that  she  quite  forgot  her 
determination  to  do  over  her  hair,  until  she  heard 
Pollyanna  enter  the  room  again.  Before  she  could 
move,  then,  she  felt  a  folded  something  slipped 
across  her  eyes  and  tied  in  the  back. 

"  Pollyanna,  Pollyanna!  What  are  you  doing?  " 
she  cried. 

Pollyanna  chuckled. 

"  That's  just  what  I  don't  want  you  to  know, 
Aunt  Polly,  and  I  was  afraid  you  would  peek,  so 
I  tied  on  the  handkerchief.  Now  sit  still.  It  won't 
take  but  just  a  minute,  then  I'll  let  you  see." 

"  But,  Pollyanna,"  began  Miss  Polly,  struggling 
blindly  to  her  feet,  "  you  must  take  this  off !    You 


188  Pollyanna 

—  child,  child!  what  are  you  doing?  "  she  gasped, 
as  she  felt  a  soft  something  slipped  about  her 
shoulders. 

Pollyanna  only  chuckled  the  more  gleefully. 
With  trembling  fingers  she  was  draping  about  her 
aunt's  shoulders  the  fleecy  folds  of  a  beautiful  lace 
shawl,  yellowed  from  long  years  of  packing  away, 
and  fragrant  with  lavender.  Pollyanna  had  found 
the  shawl  the  week  before  when  Nancy  had  been 
regulating  the  attic;  and  it  had  occurred  to  her 
to-day  that  there  was  no  reason  why  her  aunt,  as 
well  as  Mrs.  White  of  her  Western  home,  should 
not  be  "  dressed  up." 

Her  task  completed,  Pollyanna  surveyed  her  work 
with  eyes  that  approved,  but  that  saw  yet  one  touch 
wanting.  Promptly,  therefore,  she  pulled  her  aunt 
toward  the  sun  parlor  where  she  could  see  a  belated 
red  rose  blooming  on  the  trellis  within  reach  of  her 
hand. 

"  Pollyanna,  what  are  you  doing  ?  Where  are 
you  taking  me  to  ?  "  recoiled  Aunt  Polly,  vainly 
trying  to  hold  herself  back.  "  Pollyanna,  I  shall 
not  —  " 

"It's  just  to  the  sun  parlor  —  only  a  minute! 
I'll  have  you  ready  now  quicker'n  no  time,"  panted 
Pollyanna,  reaching  for  the  rose  and  thrusting  it 


A  Red  Rose  and  a  Lace  Shawl     169 

into  the  soft  hair  above  Miss  Polly's  left  ear. 
"  There !  "  she  exulted,  untying  the  knot  of  the 
handkerchief  and  flinging  the  bit  of  linen  far  from 
her.  "  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  now  I  reckon  you'll  be  glad 
I  dressed  you  up !  " 

For  one  dazed  moment  Miss  Polly  looked  at  her 
bedecked  self,  and  at  her  surroundings;  then  she 
gave  a  low  cry  and  fled  to  her  room.  Pollyanna, 
following  the  direction  of  her  aunt's  last  dismayed 
gaze,  saw,  through  the  open  windows  of  the  sun 
parlor,  the  horse  and  gig  turning  into  the  driveway. 
She  recognized  at  once  the  man  who  held  the  reins. 

Delightedly  she  leaned  forward. 

"  Dr.  Chilton,  Dr.  Chilton !  Did  you  want  to  see 
me?    I'm  up  here." 

"  Yes,"  smiled  the  doctor,  a  little  gravely.  "  Will 
you  come  down,  please  ?  " 

In  the  bedroom  Pollyanna  found  a  flushed-faced, 
angry-eyed  woman  plucking  at  the  pins  that  held 
a  lace  shawl  in  place. 

"Pollyanna,  how  could  you?"  moaned  the 
'woman.  "  To  think  of  your  rigging  me  up  like  this, 
and  then  letting  me  —  be  seen! " 

Pollyanna  stopped  in  dismay. 

"  But  you  looked  lovely  —  perfectly  lovely,  Aunt 
Polly;   and  —  " 


170  Pollyanna 

i  r      ga=s=ggg 

"  '  Lovely  ' !  "  scorned  the  woman,  flinging  the 
shawl  to  one  side  and  attacking  her  hair  with 
shaking  fingers. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  please,  please  let  the  hair  — 
stay!" 

"Stay?  Like  this?  As  if  I  would!"  And  Miss 
Polly  pulled  the  locks  so  tightly  back  that  the  last 
curl  lay  stretched  dead  at  the  ends  of  her  fingers. 

"  O  dear !  And  you  did  look  so  pretty,"  almost 
sobbed  Pollyanna,  as  she  stumbled  through  the  door. 

Down-stairs  Pollyanna  found  the  doctor  waiting 
in  his  gig. 

"  I've  prescribed  you  for  a  patient,  and  he's  sent 
me  to  get  the  prescription  filled,"  announced  the 
doctor.     "  Will  you  go  ?  " 

"  You  mean  —  an  errand  —  to  the  drug  store?  " 
asked  Pollyanna,  a  little  uncertainly.  "  I  used  to  go 
some  —  for  the  Ladies'  Aiders." 

The  doctor  shook  his  head  with  a  smile. 

"  Not  exactly.  It's  Mr.  John  Pendleton.  He 
would  like  to  see  you  to-day,  if  you'll  be  so  good 
as  to  come.  It's  stopped  raining,  so  I  drove  down 
after  you.  Will  you  come?  I'll  call  for  you  and 
bring  you  back  before  six  o'clock." 

"I'd  love  to!  "  exclaimed  Pollyanna.  "Let  me 
ask  Aunt  Polly." 


A  Red  Rose  and  a  Lace  Shawl     171 

aa 

In  a  few  moments  she  returned,  hat  in  hand,  but 
with  rather  a  sober  face. 

"  Didn't  —  your  aunt  want  you  to  go  ?  "  asked 
the  doctor,  a  little  diffidently,  as  they  drove 
away. 

"  Y-yes,"  sighed  Pollyanna.  "  She  —  she  wanted 
me  to  go  too  much,  I'm  afraid." 

"Wanted  you  to  go  too  much!" 

Pollyanna  sighed  again. 

"  Yes.  I  reckon  she  meant  she  didn't  want  me 
there.  You  see,  she  said :  '  Yes,  yes,  run  along,  run 
along  —  do!    I  wish  you'd  gone  before.'  " 

The  doctor  smiled  —  but  with  his  lips  only.  His 
eyes  were  very  grave.  For  some  time  he  said  noth- 
ing;  then,  a  little  hesitatingly,  he  asked: 

"  Wasn't  it  —  your  aunt  I  saw  with  you  a  few 
minutes  ago  —  in  the  window  of  the  sun  parlor?  " 

Pollyanna  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Yes ;  that's  what's  the  whole  trouble,  I  sup- 
pose. You  see  I'd  dressed  her  up  in  a  perfectly 
lovely  lace  shawl  I  found  up-stairs,  and  I'd  fixed  her 
hair  and  put  on  a  rose,  and  she  looked  so  pretty. 
Didn't  you  think  she  looked  just  lovely?" 

For  a  moment  the  doctor  did  not  answer.  When 
he  did  speak  his  voice  was  so  low  Pollyanna  could 
but  just  hear  the  words. 


172  PoUyanxia 

"  Yes,  Pollyanna,  I  —  I  thought  she  did  look  — 
just  lovely." 

"Did  you?  I'm  so  glad!  I'll  tell  her,"  nodded 
the  little  girl,  contentedly. 

To  her  surprise  the  doctor  gave  a  sudden  excla- 
mation. 

"  Never !  Pollyanna,  I  —  I'm  afraid  I  shall  have 
to  ask  you  not  to  tell  her  —  that." 

"  Why,  Dr.  Chilton !  Why  not  ?  I  should  think 
you'd  be  glad  —  " 

"  But  she  might  not  be,"  cut  in  the  doctor. 

Pollyanna  considered  this  for  a  moment. 

"  That's  so  —  maybe  she  wouldn't,"  she  sighed. 
"  I  remember  now ;  'twas  'cause  she  saw  you  that 
she  ran.  And  she  —  she  spoke  afterwards  about 
her  being  seen  in  that  rig." 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  declared  the  doctor,  under 
his  breath. 

"  Still,  I  don't  see  why,"  maintained  Pollyanna, 
**  —  when  she  looked  so  pretty !  " 

The  doctor  said  nothing.  He  did  not  speak 
again,  indeed,  until  they  were  almost  to  the  great 
stone  house  in  which  John  Pendleton  lay  with  a 
broken  leg. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

"  JUST    LIKE    A    BOOK  " 

John  Pendleton  greeted  Pollyanna  to-day  with 
a  smile. 

"  Well,  Miss  Pollyanna,  I'm  thinking  you  must 
be  a  very  forgiving  little  person,  else  you  wouldn't 
have  come  to  see  me  again  to-day." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Pendleton,  I  was  real  glad  to  come, 
and  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't  be,  either." 

"  Oh,  well,  you  know,  I  was  pretty  cross  with 
you,  I'm  afraid,  both  the  other  day  when  you  so 
kindly  brought  me  the  jelly,  and  that  time  when 
you  found  me  with  the  broken  leg  at  first.  By  the 
way,  too,  I  don't  think  I've  ever  thanked  you  for 
that.  Now  I'm  sure  that  even  you  would  admit  that 
you  were  very  forgiving  to  come  and  see  me,  after 
j  such  ungrateful  treatment  as  that !  " 
'      Pollyanna  stirred  uneasily. 

"  But  I  was  glad  to  find  you  —  that  is,  I  don't 
mean  I  was  glad  your  leg  was  broken,  of  course," 
she  corrected  hurriedly. 

1TQ 


174  Pollyanna 

John  Pendleton  smiled. 

"  I  understand.  Your  tongue  does  get  away  with 
you  once  in  a  while,  doesn't  it,  Miss  Pollyanna?  I 
do  thank  you,  however;  and  I  consider  you  a  very 
brave  little  girl  to  do  what  you  did  that  day.  I 
thank  you  for  the  jelly,  too,"  he  added  in  a  lighter 
voice. 

"  Did  you  like  it?  "  asked  Pollyanna  with  interest. 

"  Very  much.  I  suppose  —  there  isn't  any  more 
to-day  that  —  that  Aunt  Polly  didn't  send,  is 
there  ?  "  he  asked  with  an  odd  smile. 

His  visitor  looked  distressed. 

"  N-no,  sir."  She  hesitated,  then  went  on  with 
heightened  color.  "  Please,  Mr.  Pendleton,  I  didn't 
mean  to  be  rude  the  other  day  when  I  said  Aunt 
Polly  did  not  send  the  jelly." 

There  was  no  answer.  John  Pendleton  was  not 
smiling  now.  He  was  looking  straight  ahead  of 
him  with  eyes  that  seemed  to  be  gazing  through  and 
beyond  the  object  before  them.  After  a  time  he 
drew  a  long  sigh  and  turned  to  Pollyanna.  When 
he  spoke  his  voice  carried  the  old  nervous  fretful- 
ness. 

"  Well,  well,  this  will  never  do  at  all !  I  didn't 
send  for  you  to  see  me  moping  this  time.  Listen! 
Out  in  the  library  —  the  big  room  where  the  tele- 


"  Just  Like  a  Book  "  175 

phone  is,  you  know  —  you  will  find  a  carved  box 
on  the  lower  shelf  of  the  big  case  with  glass  doors 
in  the  corner  not  far  from  the  fireplace.  That  is, 
it'll  be  there  if  that  confounded  woman  hasn't 
'  regulated  '  it  to  somewhere  else !  You  may  bring 
it  to  me.  It  is  heavy,  but  not  too  heavy  for  you  to 
carry,  I  think." 

"  Oh,  I'm  awfully  strong,"  declared  Pollyanna, 
cheerfully,  as  she  sprang  to  her  feet.  In  a  minute 
she  had  returned  with  the  box. 

It  was  a  wonderful  half -hour  that  Pollyanna 
spent  then.  The  box  was  full  of  treasures  —  curios 
that  John  Pendleton  had  picked  up  in  years  of  travel 
—  and  concerning  each  there  was  some  entertaining 
story,  whether  it  were  a  set  of  exquisitely  carved 
chessmen  from  China,  or  a  little  jade  idol  from 
India. 

It  was  after  she  had  heard  the  story  about  the 
idol  that  Pollyanna  murmured  wistfully: 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it  zuould  be  better  to  take  a  little 
boy  in  India  to  bring  up  —  one  that  didn't  know 
any  more  than  to  think  that  God  was  in  that  doll- 
thing  —  than  it  would  be  to  take  Jimmy  Bean,  a 
little  boy  who  knows  God  is  up  in  the  sky.  Still, 
I  can't  help  wishing  they  had  wanted  Jimmy  Bean, 
too,  besides  the  India  boys." 


176  Poliyanna 

John  Pendleton  did  not  seem  to  hear.  Again  his 
eyes  were  staring  straight  before  him,  looking  at 
nothing.  But  soon  he  had  roused  himself,  and  had 
picked  up  another  curio  to  talk  about. 

The  visit,  certainly,  was  a  delightful  one,  but 
before  it  was  over,  Poliyanna  was  realizing  that 
they  were  talking  about  something  besides  the 
wonderful  things  in  the  beautiful  carved  box.  They 
were  talking  of  herself,  of  Nancy,  of  Aunt  Polly, 
and  of  her  daily  life.  They  were  talking,  too,  even 
of  the  life  and  home  long  ago  in  the  far  Western 
town. 

Not  until  it  was  nearly  time  for  her  to  go,  did 
the  man  say,  in  a  voice  Poliyanna  had  never  before 
heard  from  stern  John  Pendleton: 

"  Little  girl,  I  want  you  to  come  to  see  me  often. 
Will  you  ?  I'm  lonesome,  and  I  need  you.  There's 
another  reason  —  and  I'm  going  to  tell  you  that, 
too.  I  thought,  at  first,  after  I  found  out  who  you 
were,  the  other  day,  that  I  didn't  want  you  to  come 
any  more.  You  reminded  me  of  —  of  something 
I  have  tried  for  long  years  to  forget.  So  I  said  to 
myself  that  I  never  wanted  to  see  you  again ;  and 
every  day,  when  the  doctor  asked  if  I  wouldn't  let 
him  bring  you  to  me,  I  said  no. 

"  But  after  a  time  I  found  I  was  wanting  to  see 


"  Just  Like  a  Book  "  177 

you  so  much  that  —  that  the  fact  that  I  wasn't  see- 
ing you  was  making  me  remember  all  the  more 
vividly  the  thing  I  was  so  wanting  to  forget.  So 
now  I  want  you  to  come.     Will  you  —  little  girl?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  Mr.  Pendleton,"  breathed  Pollyanna, 
her  eyes  luminous  with  sympathy  for  the  sad-faced 
man  lying  back  on  the  pillow  before  her.  "  I'd  love 
to  come !  " 

"  Thank  you,"  said  John  Pendleton,  gently. 

After  supper  that  evening,  Pollyanna,  sitting  on 
the  back  porch,  told  Nancy  all  about  Mr.  John  Pen- 
dleton's wonderful  carved  box,  and  the  still  more 
wonderful  things  it  contained. 

"  And  ter  think,"  sighed  Nancy,  "  that  he  showed 
ye  all  them  things,  and  told  ye  about  'em  like  that 
—  him  that's  so  cross  he  never  talks  ter  no  one  — ^ 
no  one !  " 

"  Oh,  but  he  isn't  cross,  Nancy,  only  outside,'' 
demurred  Pollyanna,  with  quick  loyalty.  "  I  don't 
see  why  everybody  thinks  he's  so  bad,  either.  They 
wouldn't,  if  they  knew  him.  But  even  Aunt  Polly 
doesn't  like  him  very  well.  She  wouldn't  send  the 
jelly  to  him,  you  know,  and  she  was  so  afraid  he'd 
think  she  did  send  it !  " 

"  Probably  she  didn't  call  him  no  duty,"  shrugged 


178  Pollyanna 

Nancy.  "  But  what  beats  me  is  how  he  happened 
ter  take  ter  you  so,  Miss  Pollyanna  —  meanin'  no 
offence  ter  you,  of  course  —  but  he  ain't  the  sort  o* 
man  what  gen'rally  takes  ter  kids;  he  ain't,  he 
ain't." 

Pollyanna  smiled  happily. 

"  But  he  did,  Nancy,"  she  nodded,  "  only  I  reckon 
even  he  didn't  want  to  —  all  the  time.  Why,  only 
to-day  he  owned  up  that  one  time  he  just  felt  he 
never  wanted  to  see  me  again,  because  I  reminded 
him  of  something  he  wanted  to  forget.  But  after- 
wards —  " 

"  What's  that  ?  "  interrupted  Nancy,  excitedly. 
"  He  said  you  reminded  him  of  something  he 
wanted  to  forget  ?  " 

"  Yes.     But  afterwards  —  " 

"  What  was  it  ?  "     Nancy  was  eagerly  insistent 

"  He  didn't  tell  me.  He  just  said  it  was  some- 
thing." 

"  The  mystery!"  breathed  Nancy,  in  an  awe~ 
struck  voice.  "  That's  why  he  took  to  you  in  the 
first  place.  Oh,  Miss  Pollyanna!  Why,  that's  just 
like  a  book  — •  I've  read  lots  of  'em ;  *  Lady  Maud's 
Secret/  and  'The  Lost  Heir,'  and  'Hidden  for 
Years  '  —  all  of  'em  had  mysteries  and  things  just 
like  this.    My  stars  and  stockings!    Just  think  of 


44  Just  Like  a  Book  ?s  179 

havin'  a  book  lived  right  under  yer  nose  like  this  — 
an'  me  not  knowin'  it  all  this  time!  Now  tell  me 
everythin'  —  everythin'  he  said,  Miss  Pollyanna, 
there's  a  dear!  No  wonder  he  took  ter  you;  no 
wonder  —  no  wonder !  " 

"  But  he  didn't,"  cried  Pollyanna,  "  not  till  / 
talked  to  him,  first.  And  he  didn't  even  know  who 
I  was  till  I  took  the  calf s-foot  jelly,  and  had  to 
make  him  understand  that  Aunt  Polly  didn't  send 
it,  and  —  " 

Nancy  sprang  to  her  feet  and  clasped  her  hands 
together  suddenly. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Pollyanna,  I  know,  I  know  —  I  know 
I  know !  "  she  exulted  rapturously.  The  next  min- 
ute she  was  down  at  Pollyanna's  side  again.  "  Tell 
me  —  now  think,  and  answer  straight  and  true," 
she  urged  excitedly.  "  It  was  after  he  found  out 
you  was  Miss  Polly's  niece  that  he  said  he  didn't 
ever  want  ter  see  ye  again,  wa'n't  it?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  told  him  that  the  last  time  I  saw 
him,  and  he  told  me  this  to-day." 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  triumphed  Nancy.  "  And 
Miss  Polly  wouldn't  send  the  jelly  herself,  would 
she?" 

"  No." 

"  And  you  told  him  she  didn't  send  it?,v 


180  Pollyanna 

"Why,  yes;   I  —  " 

"  And  he  began  ter  act  queer  and  cry  out  sudden 
after  he  found  out  you  was  her  niece.  He  did  that, 
didn't  he?" 

"  Why,  y-yes ;  he  did  act  a  little  queer  —  over 
that  jelly,"  admitted  Pollyanna,  with  a  thoughtful 
frown. 

Nancy  drew  a  long  sigh. 

"  Then  I've  got  it,  sure!  Now  listen.  Mr.  John 
Pendleton  was  Miss  Polly  Harrington's  lover!" 
she  announced  impressively,  but  with  a  furtive 
glance  over  her  shoulder. 

"  Why,  Nancy,  he  couldn't  be !  She  doesn't  like 
him,"  objected  Pollyanna. 

Nancy  gave  her  a  scornful  glance. 

"  Of  course  she  don't!    That's  the  quarrel!  " 

Pollyanna  still  looked  incredulous,  and  with  an- 
other long  breath  Nancy  happily  settled  herself  to 
tell  the  story. 

"  It's  like  this.  Just  before  you  come,  Mr.  Tom 
told  me  Miss  Polly  had  had  a  lover  once.  I  didn't 
believe  it.  I  couldn't  —  her  and  a  lover!  But  Mr. 
Tom  said  she  had,  and  that  he  was  livin'  now  right 
in  this  town.  And  now  I  know,  of  course.  It's 
John  Pendleton.  Hain't  he  got  a  mystery  in  his 
life?    Don't  he  shut  himself  up  in  that  grand  house 


M  Just  Like  a  Book  "  181 

alone,  and  never  speak  ter  no  one?  Didn't  he  act 
queer  when  he  found  out  you  was  Miss  Polly's 
niece?  And  now  hain't  he  owned  up  that  you  re- 
mind him  of  somethin'  he  wants  ter  forget?  Just 
ias  if  anybody  couldn't  see  'twas  Miss  Polly!  —  an' 
her  savin'  she  wouldn't  send  him  no  jelly,  too. 
Why,  Miss  Pollyanna,  it's  as  plain  as  the  nose  on 
yer  face ;   it  is,  it  is !  " 

"  Oh-h !  "  breathed  Pollyanna,  in  wide-eyed 
amazement.  "  But,  Nancy,  I  should  think  if  they 
loved  each  other  they'd  make  up  some  time.  Both 
of  'em  all  alone,  so,  all  these  years.  I  should  think 
they'd  be  glad  to  make  up !  " 

Nancy  sniffed  disdainfully. 

"  I  guess  maybe  you  don't  know  much  about  lov- 
ers, Miss  Pollyanna.  You  ain't  big  enough  yet, 
anyhow.  But  if  there  is  a  set  o'  folks  in  the  world 
that  wouldn't  have  no  use  for  that  'ere  '  glad  game  ' 
o'  your'n,  it'd  be  a  pair  o'  quarrellin'  lovers;  and 
that's  what  they  be.  Ain't  he  cross  as  sticks,  most 
gen'rally  ?  —  and  ain't  she  —  " 

Nancy  stopped  abruptly,  remembering  just  in 
time  to  whom,  and  about  whom,  she  was  speaking. 
Suddenly,  however,  she  chuckled. 

"  I  ain't  sayin',  though,  Miss  Pollyanna,  but  what 
it  would  be  a  pretty  slick  piece  of  business  if  you 


I5»  Pollyanna 

could  get  'em  ter  playin'  it  —  so  they  would  be  glad 
ter  make  up.  But,  my  land!  wouldn't  folks  stare 
some  —  Miss  Polly  and  him !  I  guess,  though, 
there  ain't  much  chance,  much  chance !  " 

Pollyanna  said  nothing;  but  when  she  went  into 
the  house  a  little  later,  her  face  was  very  thought" 
fill 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

PRISMS 

As  the  warm  August  days  passed,  Pollyanna 
went  very  frequently  to  the  great  house  on  Pendle- 
ton Hill.  She  did  not  feel,  however,  that  her  visits 
were  really  a  success.  Not  but  that  the  man  seemed 
to  want  her  there  —  he  sent  for  her,  indeed,  fre- 
quently; but  that  when  she  was  there,  he  seemed 
scarcely  any  the  happier  for  her  presence  —  at  least, 
so  Pollyanna  thought. 

He  talked  to  her,  it  was  true,  and  he  showed  her 
many  strange  and  beautiful  things  —  books,  pic- 
tures, and  curios.  But  he  still  fretted  audibly  over 
his  own  helplessness,  and  he  chafed  visibly  under 
the  rules  and  "  regulatings "  of  the  unwelcome 
members  of  his  household.  He  did,  indeed,  seem 
to  like  to  hear  Pollyanna  talk,  however,  and  Polly- 
anna talked.  Pollvanna  liked  to  talk  —  but  she  was 
never  sure  that  she  would  not  look  uo  and  find  him 
lying  back  on  his  pillow  with  that  white,  hurt  look 
that  always  pained  her;    and  she  was  never  sure 

183 


184  Pollyanna 

which  —  if  any  —  of  her  words  had  brought  it 
there.  As  for  telling  him  the  "  glad  game,"  and 
trying  to  get  him  to  play  it  —  Pollyanna  had  never 
seen  the  time  yet  when  she  thought  he  would  care 
to  hear  about  it.  She  had  twice  tried  to  tell  him; 
but  neither  time  had  she  got  beyond  the  beginning 
of  what  her  father  had  said  —  John  Pendleton  had 
on  each  occasion  turned  the  conversation  abruptly 
to  another  subject. 

Pollyanna  never  doubted  now  that  John  Pendle- 
ton was  her  Aunt  Polly's  one-time  lover;  and  with 
all  the  strength  of  her  loving,  loyal  heart,  she  wished 
she  could  in  some  way  bring  happiness  into  their  — 
to  her  mind  —  miserably  lonely  lives. 

Just  how  she  was  to  do  this,  however,  she  could 
not  see.  She  talked  to  Mr.  Pendleton  about  her 
aunt;  and  he  listened,  sometimes  politely,  some- 
times irritably,  frequently  with  a  quizzical  smile  on 
his  usually  stern  lips.  She  talked  to  her  aunt  about 
Mr.  Pendleton  —  or  rather,  she  tried  to  talk  to  her 
about  him.  As  a  general  thing,  however,  Miss 
Polly  would  not  listen  —  long.  She  always  found 
something  else  to  talk  about.  She  frequently  did 
that,  however,  when  Pollyanna  was  talking  of 
others  —  of  Dr.  Chilton,  for  instance.  Pollyanna 
laid  this,  though,  to  the  fact  that  it  had  been  Dr. 


Prisms  185 

Chilton  who  had  seen  her  in  the  sun  parlor  with 
the  rose  in  her  hair  and  the  lace  shawl  draped  about 
her  shoulders.  Aunt  Polly,  indeed,  seemed  particu- 
larly bitter  against  Dr.  Chilton,  as  Pollyanna  found 
out  one  day  when  a  hard  cold  shut  her  up  in  the 
house. 

"If  you  are  not  better  by  night  I  shall  send  for 
the  doctor,"  Aunt  Polly  said. 

"  Shall  you?  Then  I'm  going  to  be  worse," 
gurgled  Pollyanna.  "  I'd  love  to  have  Dr.  Chilton 
come  to  see  me !  " 

She  wondered,  then,  at  the  look  that  came  to  her 
aunt's  face. 

"  It  will  not  be  Dr.  Chilton,  Pollyanna,"  Miss 
Polly  said  sternly.  "  Dr.  Chilton  is  not  our  family 
physician.  I  shall  send  for  Dr.  Warren  —  if  you 
are  worse." 

Pollyanna  did  not  grow  worse,  however,  and  Dr. 
Warren  was  not  summoned. 

"  And  I'm  so  glad,  too,"  Pollyanna  said  to  her 
aunt  that  evening.  "Of  course  I  like  Dr.  Warren, 
and  all  that ;  but  I  like  Dr.  Chilton  better,  and  I'm 
afraid  he'd  feel  hurt  if  I  didn't  have  him.  You  see, 
he  wasn't  really  to  blame,  after  all,  that  he  happened 
to  see  you  when  I'd  dressed  you  up  so  pretty  that 
day,  Aunt  Polly,"  she  finished  wistfully. 


186  Pollyanna 

1    '     =g=sr 
"  That  will  do,  Pollyanna.     I  really  do  not  wish 

to  discuss  Dr.  Chilton  —  or  his  feelings,"  reproved 

Miss  Polly,  decisively. 

Pollyanna    looked   at   her    for   a   moment   with 

mournfully  interested  eyes;    then  she  sighed: 
"  I  just  love  to  see  you  when  your  cheeks  are 

pink  like  that,  Aunt  Polly;   but  I  would  so  like  to 

fix  your  hair.     If —     Why,  Aunt   Polly!"     But 

her    aunt    was    already    out    of    sight    down    the 

hall. 

It  was  toward  the  end  of  August  that  Pollyanna, 
making  an  early  morning  call  on  John  Pendleton, 
found  the  flaming  band  of  blue  and  gold  and  green 
edged  with  red  and  violet  lying  across  his  pillow. 
She  stopped  short  in  awed  delight. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Pendleton,  it's  a  baby  rainbow  —  a 
real  rainbow  come  in  to  pay  you  a  visit!  "  she  ex- 
claimed, clapping  her  hands  together  softly.  "  Oh 
—  oh  —  oh,  how  pretty  it  is !  But  how  did  it  get 
in?  "  she  cried. 

The  man  laughed  a  little  grimly:  John  Pendle- 
ton was  particularly  out  of  sorts  with  the  world  this 
morning. 

46  Well,  I  suppose  it '  got  in  '  through  the  bevelled 
edge  of  that  glass  thermometer  in  the  window,"  he 


Prisms  187 

said  wearily.  "  The  sun  shouldn't  strike  it  at  all  — 
but  it  does  in  the  morning." 

"  Oh,  but  it's  so  pretty,  Mr.  Pendleton !  And 
does  just  the  sun  do  that?  My!  if  it  was  mine  I'd 
have  it  hang  in  the  sun  all  day  long !  " 

"  Lots  of  good  you'd  get  out  of  the  thermometer, 
then,"  laughed  the  man.  "  How  do  you  suppose 
you  could  tell  how  hot  it  was,  or  how  cold  it  was, 
if  the  thermometer  hung  in  the  sun  all  day?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  care,"  breathed  Pollyanna,  her  fas- 
cinated eyes  on  the  brilliant  band  of  colors  across 
the  pillow.  "  Just  as  if  anybody'd  care  —  when 
they  were  living  all  the  time  in  a  rainbow !  " 

The  man  laughed.  He  was  watching  Polly- 
anna's  rapt  face  a  little  curiously.  Suddenly  a  new 
thought  came  to  him.  He  touched  the  bell  at  his 
side. 

"  Nora,"  he  said,  when  the  elderly  maid  appeared 
at  the  door,  "  bring  me  one  of  the  big  brass  candle- 
sticks from  the  mantel  in  the  front  drawing-room." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  murmured  the  woman,  looking 
slightly  dazed.  In  a  minute  she  had  returned.  A 
musical  tinkling  entered  the  room  with  her  as  she 
advanced  wonderingly  toward  the  bed.  It  came 
from  the  prism  pendants  encircling  the  old-fasb- 
ioned  candelabrum  in  her  hand. 


188  Pollyanna 

"  Thank  you.  You  may  set  it  here  on  the  stand," 
directed  the  man.  "  Now  get  a  string  and  fasten 
it  to  the  sash-curtain  fixtures  of  that  window 
there.  Take  down  the  sash-curtain,  and  let  the 
string  reach  straight  across  the  window  from 
side  to  side.  That  will  be  all.  Thank  you," 
he  said,  when  she  had  carried  out  his  direc- 
tions. 

As  she  left  the  room  he  turned  smiling  eyes 
toward  the  wondering  Pollyanna. 

"  Bring  me  the  candlestick  now,  please,  Polly- 
anna." 

With  both  hands  she  brought  it;  and  in  a  mo- 
ment he  was  slipping  off  the  pendants,  one  by  one, 
until  they  lay,  a  round  dozen  of  them,  side  by  side, 
on  the  bed. 

"  Now,  my  dear,  suppose  you  take  them  and 
hook  them  to  that  little  string  Nora  fixed  across  the 
window.  If  you  really  want  to  live  in  a  rainbow  — 
I  don't  see  but  we'll  have  to  have  a  rainbow  for  you 
to  live  in !  " 

Pollyanna  had  not  hung  up  three  of  the  pendants 
in  the  sunlit  window  before  she  saw  a  little  of  what 
was  going  to  happen.  She  was  so  excited  then  she 
could  scarcely  control  her  shaking  fingers  enough 
to  hang  up  the  rest.     But  at  last  her  task  was  fin- 


Prisms  189 

— i 

ished,  and  she  stepped  back  with  a  low  cry  of  de- 
light. 

It  had  become  a  fairyland  —  that  sumptuous,  but 
dreary  bedroom.  Everywhere  were  bits  of  dancing" 
red  and  green,  violet  and  orange,  gold  and  blue. 
The  wall,  the  floor,  and  the  furniture,  even  to  the 
bed  itself,  were  aflame  with  shimmering  bits  of 
color. 

"  Oh,  oh,  oh,  how  lovely !  "  breathed  Pollyanna ; 
then  she  laughed  suddenly.  "  I  just  reckon  the 
sun  himself  is  trying  to  play  the  game  now,  don't 
you  ? "  she  cried,  forgetting  for  the  moment  that 
Mr.  Pendleton  could  not  know  what  she  was  talk- 
ing about.  "  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  had  a  lot  of  those 
things !  How  I  would  like  to  give  them  to  Aunt 
Polly  and  Mrs.  Snow  and  —  lots  of  folks.  I  reckon 
then  they'd  be  glad  all  right!  Why,  I  think  even 
Aunt  Polly'd  get  so  glad  she  couldn't  help  banging 
doors  —  if  she  lived  in  a  rainbow  like  that.  Don't 
you?" 

Mr.  Pendleton  laughed. 

"  Well,  from  my  remembrance  of  your  aunt,  Miss 
Pollyanna,  I  must  say  I  think  it  would  take  some- 
thing more  than  a  few  prisms  in  the  sunlight  to  — 
to  make  her  bang  many  doors  —  for  gladness.  Bat 
come,  now,  really,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 


190  Pollyanna 

Pollyanna  stared  slightly;  then  she  drew  a  long 
breath. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot.  You  don't  know  about  the  game. 
I  remember  now." 

"  Suppose  you  tell  me,  then." 

And  this  time  Pollyanna  told  him.  She  told  him 
the  whole  thing  from  the  very  first  —  from  the 
crutches  that  should  have  been  a  doll.  As  she 
talked,  she  did  not  look  at  his  face.  Her  rapt  eyes 
were  still  on  the  dancing  flecks  of  color  from  the 
prism  pendants  swaying  in  the  sunlit  window. 

"  And  that's  all,"  she  sighed,  when  she  had  fin- 
ished. "  And  now  you  know  why  I  said  the  sun 
was  trying  to  play  it  —  that  game." 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence.  Then  a  low 
voice  from  the  bed  said  unsteadily: 

"  Perhaps ;  but  I'm  thinking  that  the  very  finest 
prism  of  them  all  is  yourself,  Pollyanna." 

"  Oh,  but  I  don't  show  beautiful  red  and  green 
and  purple  when  the  sun  shines  through  me,  Mr. 
Pendleton !  " 

"  Don't  you?  "  smiled  the  man.  And  Pollyanna, 
looking  into  his  face,  wondered  why  there  were 
tears  in  his  eyes. 

"  No,"  she  said.  Then,  after  a  minute  she  added 
mournfully :   "  I'm  afraid,  Mr.  Pendleton,  the  sun 


Prisms  191 

doesn't  make  anything  but  freckles  —  out  of  me. 
Aunt  Polly  says  it  does  make  them !  " 

The  man  laughed  a  little;  and  again  Pollyanna 
looked  at  him:  the  laugh  had  sounded  almost  like 
a  sob. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

WHICH    IS   SOMEWHAT   SURPRISING 

Pollyanna  entered  school  in  September.  Pre- 
liminary examinations  showed  that  she  was  well 
advanced  for  a  girl  of  her  years,  and  she  was  soon 
a  happy  member  of  a  class  of  girls  and  boys  her 
own  age. 

School,  in  some  ways,  was  a  surprise  to  Tolly- 
anna  ;  and  Pollyanna,  certainly,  in  many  ways,  was 
very  much  of  a  surprise  to  school.  They  were  soon 
on  the  best  of  terms,  however,  and  to  her  aunt 
Pollyanna  confessed  that  going  to  school  was  liv- 
ing, after  all  —  though  she  had  had  her  doubts 
before. 

In  spite  of  her  delight  in  her  new  work,  Polly- 
anna did  not  forget  her  old  friends.  True,  she 
could  not  give  them  quite  so  much  time  now,  of 
\  course ;  but  she  gave  them  what  time  she  could. 
Perhaps  John  Pendleton,  of  them  all,  however,  was 
the  most  dissatisfied. 

One  Saturday  afternoon  he  spoke  to  her  about  it. 
192 


Which  Is  Somewhat  Surprising     193 

"  See  here,  Pollyanna,  how  would  you  like  to 
come  and  live  with  me?"  he  asked,  a  little  impa- 
tiently. "  I  don't  see  anything  of  you,  nowa- 
days." 

Pollyanna  laughed  —  Mr.  Pendleton  was  such  a 
funny  man ! 

"  I  thought  you  didn't  like  to  have  folks  'round/' 
she  said. 

He  made  a  wry  face. 

"  Oh,  but  that  was  before  you  taught  me  to  play 
that  wonderful  game  of  yours.  Now  I'm  glad  to 
be  waited  on,  hand  and  foot!  Never  mind,  I'll  be 
on  my  own  two  feet  yet,  one  of  these  days;  then 
I'll  see  who  steps  around,"  he  finished,  picking  up 
one  of  the  crutches  at  his  side  and  shaking  it  play- 
fully at  the  little  girl.  They  were  sitting  in  the 
great  library  to-day. 

"  Oh,  but  you  aren't  really  glad  at  all  for  things ; 
you  just  say  you  are,"  pouted  Pollyanna,  her  eyes 
on  the  dog,  dozing  before  the  fire.  "  You  know 
you  don't  play  the  game  right  ever,  Mr.  Pendleton 
—  you  know  you  don't !  " 

The  man's  face  grew  suddenly  very  grave. 

"  That's  why  I  want  you,  little  girl  —  to  help  me 
->lay  it.    Will  you  come  ?  " 

Pollyanna  turned  in  surprise. 


194  Pollyanna 

"  Mr.  Pendleton,  you  don't  really  mean  —  that?" 

"  But  I  do.    I  want  you.    Will  you  come  ?  " 

Pollyanna  looked  distressed. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Pendleton,  I  can't  —  you  know  I 
can't.     Why,  I'm  —  Aunt  Polly's !  " 

A  quick  something*  crossed  the  man's  face  that 
Pollyanna  could  not  quite  understand.  His  head 
came  up  almost  fiercely. 

"  You're  no  more  hers  than  —  Perhaps  she 
would  let  you  come  to  me,"  he  finished  more  gently. 
"  Would  you  come  —  if  she  did?  " 

Pollyanna  frowned  in  deep  thought. 

"  But  Aunt  Polly  has  been  so  — good  to  me," 
she  began  slowly ;  "  and  she  took  me  when  I 
didn't  have  anybody  left  but  the  Ladies'  Aid, 
and  —  " 

Again  that  spasm  of  something  crossed  the  man's 
face;  but  this  time,  when  he  spoke,  his  voice  was 
low  and  very  sad. 

"  Pollyanna,  long  years  ago  I  loved  somebody 
very  much.  I  hoped  to  bring  her,  some  day,  to  this 
house.  I  pictured  how  happy  we'd  be  together  in 
our  home  all  the  long  years  to  come." 

"  Yes,"  pitied  Pollyanna,  her  eyes  shining  witk, 
sympathy. 

"  But  —  well,  I  didn't  bring  her  here.     Never 


Which  Is  Somewhat  Surprising     195 

mind  why.  I  just  didn't  —  that's  all.  And  ever 
since  then  this  great  gray  pile  of  stone  has  been  a 
house  —  never  a  home.  It  takes  a  woman's  hand 
and  heart,  or  a  child's  presence,  to  make  a  home, 
Pollyanna;  and  I  have  not  had  either.  Now  will 
you  come,  my  dear?  " 

Pollyanna  sprang  to  her  feet.  Her  face  was 
fairly  illumined. 

"  Mr.  Pendleton,  you  —  you  mean  that  you  wish 
you  —  you  had  had  that  woman's  hand  and  heart 
all  this  time?" 

"  Why,  y-yes,  Pollyanna." 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad !  Then  it's  all  right,"  sighed 
v:he  little  girl.  "  Now  you  can  take  us  both,  and 
everything  will  be  lovely." 

"  Take  —  you  —  both  ?  "  repeated  the  man, 
dazedly. 

A  faint  doubt  crossed  Pollyanna's  countenance. 

"  Well,  of  course,  Aunt  Polly  isn't  won  over, 
yet;  but  I'm  sure  she  will  be  if  you  tell  it  to  her 
just  as  you  did  to  me,  and  then  we'd  both  come, 
of  course." 

A  look  of  actual  terror  leaped  to  the  man's  eyes. 

"  Aunt  Polly  come  —  here! " 

Pollyanna's  eyes  widened  a  little. 

"  Would  you  rather  go  there?  "  she  asked.    "  Of 


196  Pollyanna 

course  the  house  isn't  quite  so  pretty,  but  it's 
nearer  —  " 

"Pollyanna,  what  are  you  talking  about?" 
askecl  the  man,  very  gently  now. 

"  Why,  about  where  we're  going  to  live,  of 
course,"  rejoined  Pollyanna,  in  obvious  surprise. 
"  I  thought  you  meant  here,  at  first.  You  said  it 
was  here  that  you  had  wanted  Aunt  Polly's  hand 
and  heart  all  these  years  to  make  a  home,  and  —  " 

An  inarticulate  cry  came  from  the  man's  throat. 
He  raised  his  hand  and  began  to  speak;  but  the 
next  moment  he  dropped  his  hand  nervelessly  at  his 
side. 

"  The  doctor,  sir,"  said  the  maid  in  the  doorway. 

Pollyanna  rose  at  once. 

John  Pendleton  turned  to  her  feverishly. 

"  Pollyanna,  for  Heaven's  sake,  say  nothing  of 
what  I  asked  you  —  yet,"  he  begged,  in  a  low  voice. 

Pollyanna  dimpled  into  a  sunny  smile. 

"  Of  course  not!  Just  as  if  I  didn't  know  you'd 
rather  tell  her  yourself !  "  she  called  back  merrily 
over  her  shoulder. 

John  Pendleton  fell  limply  back  in  his  chair. 

"Why,  what's  up?"  demanded  the  doctor,  a 
minute  later,  his  fingers  on  his  patient's  galloping 
pulse. 


0 

Which  Is  Somewhat  Surprising     197 


A  whimsical  smile  trembled  on  John  Pendleton's 
lips. 

"  Overdose  of  your  —  tonic,  I  guess,"  he  laughed, 
as  he  noted  the  doctor's  eyes  following  Pollyanna'c 
Uttle  figure  down  the  driveway. 


CHAPTER   XX 

WHICH   IS   MORE  SURPRISING 

Sunday  mornings  Pollyanna  usually  attended 
church  and  Sunday  school.  Sunday  afternoons  she 
frequently  went  for  a  walk  with  Nancy.  She  had 
planned  one  for  the  day  after  her  Saturday  after- 
noon visit  to  Mr.  John  Pendleton;  but  on  the  way 
home  from  Sunday  school  Dr.  Chilton  overtook  her 
in  his  gig,  and  brought  his  horse  to  a  stop. 

"  Suppose  you  let  me  drive  you  home,  Polly- 
anna," he  suggested.  "  I  want  to  speak  to  you  a 
minute.  I  was  just  driving  out  to  your  place  to 
tell  you,"  he  went  on,  as  Pollyanna  settled  herself 
at  his  side.  "  Mr.  Pendleton  sent  a  special  request 
for  you  to  go  to  see  him  this  afternoon,  sure.  He 
says  it's  very  important." 

Pollyanna  nodded  happily. 

"  Yes,  it  is,  I  know.    I'll  go." 

The  doctor  eyed  her  with  some  surprise. 

"  I'm  not  sure  I  shall  let  you,  after  all,"  he  de- 
clared, his  eyes  twinkling.  "  You  seemed  more 
upsetting  than  soothing  yesterday,  young  lady." 

198 


Which  Is  More  Surprising         199 

Pollyanna  laughed. 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  me,  truly  —  not  really,  you  know ; 
not  so  much  as  it  was  Aunt  Polly." 

The  doctor  turned  with  a  quick  stai  t. 

"  Your  —  aunt !  "  he  ejaculated. 

Pollyanna  gave  a  happy  little  bounce  in  her  seat. 

"  Yes.  And  it's  so  exciting  and  lovely,  just  like 
a  story,  you  know.  I  —  I'm  going  to  tell  you," 
she  burst  out,  with  sudden  decision.  "  He  said  not 
to  mention  it ;  but  he  wouldn't  mind  your  knowing, 
of  course.     He  meant  not  to  mention  it  to  her." 

"Her?" 

"  Yes ;  Aunt  Polly.  And,  of  course  he  would 
want  to  tell  her  himself  instead  of  having  me  d(? 
it  —  lovers,  so !  " 

"  Lovers !  "  As  the  doctor  said  the  word,  the 
horse  started  violently,  as  if  the  hand  that  held  the 
reins  had  given  them  a  sharp  jerk. 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Pollyanna,  happily.  "  That's  the 
story-part,  you  see.  I  didn't  know  it  till  Nancy  told 
me.  She  said  Aunt  Polly  had  a  lover  years  ago. 
and  they  quarrelled.  She  didn't  know  who  it  was 
at  first.  But  we've  found  out  now.  It's  Mr.  Pen- 
dleton, you  know." 

The  doctor  relaxed  suddenly.  The  hand  holding 
the  reins  fell  limply  to  his  lap. 


200  Pollyanna 

"  Oh!     No;   I  —  didn't  know,"  he  said  quietly. 

Pollyanna  hurried  on  —  they  were  nearing  the 
Harrington  homestead. 

"  Yes ;  and  I'm  so  glad  now.  It's  come  out 
lovely.  Mr.  Pendleton  asked  me  to  come  and  live 
with  him,  but  of  course  I  wouldn't  leave  Aunt  Polly 
like  that  —  after  she'd  been  so  good  to  me.  Then 
he  told  me  all  about  the  woman's  hand  and  heart 
that  he  used  to  want,  and  I  found  out  that  he 
wanted  it  now ;  and  I  was  so  glad !  For  of  course 
if  he  wants  to  make  up  the  quarrel,  everything  will 
be  all  right  now,  and  Aunt  Polly  and  I  will  both 
go  to  live  there,  or  else  he'll  come  to  live  with  us. 
Of  course  Aunt  Polly  doesn't  know  yet,  and  we 
haven't  got  everything  settled;  so  I  suppose  that 
is  why  he  wanted  to  see  me  this  afternoon,  sure." 

The  doctor  sat  suddenly  erect.  There  was  an 
odd  smile  on  his  lips. 

"  Yes ;  I  can  well  imagine  that  Mr.  John  Pendle- 
ton does  —  want  to  see  you,  Pollyanna,"  he  nodded, 
as  he  pulled  his  horse  to  a  stop  before  the  door. 

"  There's  Aunt  Polly  now  in  the  window,"  cried 
Pollyanna ;  then,  a  second  later :  "  Why,  no,  she 
isn't  —  but  I  thought  I  saw  her !  " 

"  No ;  she  isn't  there  —  now,"  said  the  doctor. 
His  lips  had  suddenly  lost  their  smile. 


Which  Is  More  Surprising        201 

Pollyanna  found  a  very  nervous  John  Pendleton 
waiting  for  her  that  afternoon. 

"  Pollyanna,"  he  began  at  once.  "  I've  been  try- 
ing all  night  to  puzzle  out  what  you  meant  by  alt 
that,  yesterday  —  about  my  wanting  your  Aunt 
Polly's  hand  and  heart  here  all  those  years.  What 
did  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  because  you  were  lovers,  you  know  — 
once;  and  I  was  so  glad  you  still  felt  that  way 
now." 

"  Lovers !  —  your  Aunt  Polly  and  I  ?  " 

At  the  obvious  surprise  in  the  man's  voice,  Polly- 
anna opened  wide  her  eyes. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Pendleton,  Nancy  said  you  were ! n 

The  man  gave  a  short  little  laugh. 

"  Indeed !  Well,  I'm  afraid  I  shall  have  to  say 
that  Nancy  —  didn't  know." 

"Then  you  —  weren't  lovers?"  Pollyanna'* 
voice  was  tragic  with  dismay. 

"Never!" 

"  And  it  isn't  all  coming  out  like  a  book  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer.  The  man's  eyes  were 
moodily  fixed  out  the  window. 

"  O  dear !  And  it  was  all  going  so  splendidly," 
almost  sobbed  Pollyanna.  "  I'd  have  been  so  glad 
to  come  —  with  Aunt  Polly." 


202  Pollyanna 


"  And  you  won't  —  now  ?  "  The  man  asked  the 
question  without  turning  his  head. 

"  Of  course  not !     I'm  Aunt  Polly's." 

The  man  turned  now,  almost  fiercely. 

"  Before  you  were  hers,  Pollyanna,  you  were  — 
your  mother's.  And  —  it  was  your  mother's  hand 
and  heart  that  I  wanted  long  years  ago." 

M  My  mother's!  " 

"  Yes.  I  had  not  meant  to  tell  you,  but  perhaps 
it's  better,  after  all,  that  I  do  —  now."  John  Pen- 
dleton's face  had  grown  very  white.  He  was  speak- 
ing with  evident  difficulty.  Pollyanna,  her  eyes 
wide  and  frightened,  and  her  lips  parted,  was  ga- 
zing at  him  fixedly.  "I  loved  your  mother;  but 
she  —  didn't  love  me.  And  after  a  time  she  went 
away  with  —  your  father.  I  did  not  know  until 
then  how  much  I  did  —  care.  The  whole  world 
suddenly  seemed  to  turn  black  under  my  fingers, 
and  —  But,  never  mind.  For  long  years  I  have 
been  a  cross,  crabbed,  unlovable,  unloved  old  man 
—  though  I'm  not  nearly  sixty,  yet,  Pollyanna. 
Then,  one  day,  like  one  of  the  prisms  that  you  love 
so  well,  little  girl,  you  danced  into  my  life,  and 
flecked  my  dreary  old  world  with  dashes  of  the 
purple  and  gold  and  scarlet  of  your  own  orignt 
cheeriness.     I   found  out,   after  a  time,  who  you 


Which  Is  More  Surprising         203 

were,  and  —  and  I  thought  then  I  never  wanted 
to  see  you  again.  I  didn't  want  to  be  reminded 
of  —  your  mother.  But  —  you  know  how  that 
came  out.  I  just  had  to  have  you  come.  And  now 
I  want  you  always.  Pollyanna,  won't  you  come  — 
now?  " 

"  But,  Mr.  Pendleton,  I  —  There's  Aunt 
Polly !  "     Pollyanna's  eyes  were  blurred  with  tears. 

The  man  made  an  impatient  gesture. 

"What  about  me?  Plow  do  you  suppose  I'm 
going  to  be  '  glad  '  about  anything  —  without  you? 
Why,  Pollyanna,  it's  only  since  you  came  that  I've 
been  even  half  glad  to  live!  But  if  I  had  you  for 
my  own  little  girl,  I'd  be  glad  for  —  anything; 
and  I'd  try  to  make  you  glad,  too,  my  dear.  You 
shouldn't  have  a  wish  ungratified.  All  my  money, 
to  the  last  cent,  should  go  to  make  you  happy." 

Pollyanna  looked  shocked. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Pendleton,  as  if  I'd  let  you  spend 
it  on  me  —  all  that  money  you've  saved  for  the 
heathen !  " 

A  dull  red  came  to  the  man's  face.  He  started 
to  speak,  but  Pollyanna  was  still  talking. 

"  Besides,  anybody  with  such  a  lot  of  money  as 
you  have  doesn't  need  me  to  make  you  glad  about 
things.     You're  making  other  folks  so  glad  giving 


g04  Pollyanna 

t  ■  i  as 

them  things  that  you  just  can't  help  being  glad 
yourself !  Why,  look  at  those  prisms  you  gave  Mrs. 
Snow  and  me,  and  the  gold  piece  you  gave  Nancy 
on  her  birthday,  and  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes  —  never  mind  about  all  that,"  inter- 
rupted the  man.  His  face  was  very,  very  red  now; 
—  and  no  wonder,  perhaps :  it  was  not  for  "  giv- 
ing things "  that  John  Pendleton  had  been  best 
known  in  the  past.  "  That's  all  nonsense.  'Twasn't 
much,  anyhow — but  what  there  was,  was  because 
of  you.  You  gave  those  things ;  not  I !  Yes,  you 
did/*  he  repeated,  in  answer  to  the  shocked  denial 
in  her  face.  "  And  that  only  goes  to  prove  all  the 
more  how  I  need  you,  little  girl,"  he  added,  his 
voice  softening  into  tender  pleading  once  more. 
"  If  ever,  ever  I  am  to  play  the  '  glad  game/  Polly- 
anna, you'll  have  to  come  and  play  it  with  me." 

The  little  girl's  forehead  puckered  into  a  wistful 
frown. 

"  Aunt  Polly  has  been  so  good  to  me,"  she  began ; 
but  the  man  interrupted  her  sharply.  The  old  irri- 
tability had  come  back  to  his  face.  Impatience 
which  would  brook  no  opposition  had  been  a  part 
of  John  Pendleton's  nature  too  long  to  yield  very 
easily  now  to  restraint. 

**  Of  course  she's  been  good  to  you !     But  she 


Which  Is  More  Surprising         ws 

doesn't  want  you,  I'll  warrant,  half  so  much  as  I 
do,"  he  contested. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Pendleton,  she's  glad,  I  know,  to 
have  —  " 

"  Glad !  "  interrupted  the  man,  thoroughly  losing 
his  patience  now.  "  I'll  wager  Miss  Polly  doesn't 
know  how  to  be  glad  —  for  anything !  Oh,  she 
does  her  duty,  I  know.  She's  a  very  dutiful  woman. 
I've  had  experience  with  her  '  duty,'  before.  I'll 
acknowledge  we  haven't  been  the  best  of  friends 
for  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years.  But  I  know 
her.  Every  one  knows  her  —  and  she  isn't  the 
'  glad  '  kind,  Pollyanna.  She  doesn't  know  how  to 
be.  As  for  your  coming  to  me  —  you  just  ask  her 
and  see  if  she  won't  let  you  come.  And,  oh,  little 
girl,  little  girl,  I  want  you  so !  "  he  finished  bro- 
kenly. 

Pollyanna  rose  to  her  feet  with  a  long  sigh. 

"  All  right.  I'll  ask  her,"  she  said  wistfully. 
"  Of  course  I  don't  mean  that  I  wouldn't  like  to 
live  here  with  you,  Mr.  Pendleton,  but  — "  She 
did  not  complete  her  sentence.  There  was  a  mo- 
ment's silence,  then  she  added :  "  Well,  anyhow, 
I'm  glad  I  didn't  tell  her  yesterday ;  —  'cause  then 
I  supposed  she  was  wanted,  too." 

John  Pendleton  smiled  grimly. 


206  Pollyanna 

"  Well,  yes,  Pollyanna;  I  guess  it  is  just  as  well 
you  didn't  mention  it  —  yesterday." 

"I  didn't  —  only  to  the  doctor;  and  of  course 
he  doesn't  count."' 

"  The  doctor !  "  cried  John  Pendleton,  turning 
quickly.     "  Not  —  Dr.  —  Chilton  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  when  he  came  to  tell  me  you  wanted  to 
see  me  to-day,  you  know." 

"Well,  of  all  the  —  "  muttered  the  man,  falling 
back  in  his  chair.  Then  he  sat  up  with  sudden  in- 
terest. "And  what  did  Dr.  Chilton  say?"  he 
asked. 

Pollyanna  frowned  thoughtfully. 

"  Why,  I  don't  remember.  Not  much,  I  reckon. 
Oh,  he  did  say  he  could  well  imagine  you  did  want 
to  see  me." 

"  Oh,  did  he,  indeed !  "  answered  John  Pendleton. 
And  Pollyanna  wondered  why  he  gave  that  sudden 
queer  little  laugh. 


CHAPTER    XXI 

A   QUESTION    ANSWERED 

The  sky  was  darkening  fast  with  what  appeared 
to  be  an  approaching  thunder  shower  when  Polly- 
anna  hurried  down  the  hill  from  John  Pendleton's 
house.  Half-way  home  she  met  Nancy  with  an 
umbrella.  By  that  time,  however,  the  clouds  had 
shifted  their  position  and  the  shower  was  not  so 
imminent. 

"  Guess  it's  goin'  'round  ter  the  north,"  an- 
nounced Nancy,  eyeing  the  sky  critically.  "  I 
thought  'twas,  all  the  time,  but  Miss  Polly  wanted 
me  ter  come  with  this.  She  was  worried  about 
ye!" 

"  Was  she  ?  "  murmured  Pollyanna  abstractedly, 
eyeing  the  clouds  in  her  turn. 

Nancy  sniffed  a  little. 

"  You  don't  seem  ter  notice  what  I  said,"  she 
observed  aggrievedly.  "  I  said  yer  aunt  was  wor- 
ried about  ye !  " 

"  Oh,"  sighed  Pollyanna,  remembering  suddenly 
207 


20S  Pollyanna 

the  question  she  was  so  soon  to  ask  her  aunt.  "  I'm 
sorry.    I  didn't  mean  to  scare  her." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad,"  retorted  Nancy,  unexpectedly. 
"  I  am,  I  am." 

Pollyanna  stared. 

"  Glad  that  Aunt  Polly  was  scared  about  me ! 
Why,  Nancy,  that  isn't  the  way  to  play  the  game 
—  to  be  glad  for  things  like  that !  "  she  objected. 

"  There  wa'n't  no  game  in  it,"  retorted  Nancy. 
*'  Never  thought  of  it.  You  don't  seem  ter  sense 
what  it  means  ter  have  Miss  Polly  worried  about 
ye,  child!" 

"  Why,  it  means  worried  —  and  worried  is  hor- 
rid —  to  feel,"  maintained  Pollyanna.  "  What  else 
can  it  mean  ?  " 

Nancy  tossed  her  head. 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  ye  what  it  means.  It  means  she's 
at  last  gettin'  down  somewheres  near  human  — 
like  folks;  an'  that  she  ain't  jest  doin'  her  duty  by 
ye  all  the  time." 

"  Why,  Nancy,"  demurred  the  scandalized  Pol- 
lyanna, "  Aunt  Polly  always  does  her  duty.  She  — 
she's  a  very  dutiful  woman !  "  Unconsciously  Pol- 
lyanna repeated  John  Pendleton's  words  of  half  an 
hour  before. 

Nancy  chuckled. 


A  Question  Answered  209 

"  You're  right  she  is  —  and  she  always  was,  I 
guess!  But  she's  somethin'  more,  now,  since  you 
came." 

Pollyanna's  face  changed.  Her  brows  drew  into 
a  troubled  frown. 

"  There,  that's  what  I  was  going  to  ask  you, 
Nancy,"  she  sighed.  "  Do  you  think  Aunt  Polly 
likes  to  have  me  here  ?  Would  she  mind  —  if  — 
if  I  wasn't  here  any  more?  " 

Nancy  threw  a  quick  look  into  the  little  girl's 
absorbed  face.  She  had  expected  to  be  asked  this 
question  long  before,  and  she  had  dreaded  it.  She 
had  wondered  how  she  should  answer  it  —  how 
she  could  answer  it  honestly  without  cruelly  hurting 
the 'questioner.  But  now,  now,  in  the  face  of  the 
new  suspicions  that  had  become  convictions  by  the 
afternoon's  umbrella-sending  —  Nancy  only  wel- 
comed the  question  with  open  arms.  She  was  sure 
that,  with  a  clean  conscience  to-day,  she  could  set 
the  love-hungry  little  girl's  heart  at  rest. 

"  Likes  ter  have  ye  here  ?  Would  she  miss  ye 
if  ye  wa'n't  here?  "  cried  Nancy,  indignantly.  "  As 
if  that  wa'n't  jest  what  I  was  tellin'  of  ye!  Didn't 
she  send  me  posthaste  with  an  umbrella  'cause  she 
see  a  little  cloud  in  the  sky?  Didn't  she  make  me 
tote  yer  things  all  down-stairs,  so  you  could  have 


210  Pollyanna 

the  pretty  room  you  wanted?  Why,  Miss  Polly- 
anna, when  ye  remember  how  at  first  she  hated  ter 
have  —  " 

With  a  choking  cough  Nancy  pulled  herself  up 
just  in  time. 

"  And  it  ain't  jest  things  I  can  put  my  fingers 
on,  neither,"  rushed  on  Nancy,  breathlessly.  "  It's 
little  ways  she  has,  that  shows  how  you've  been 
softenin'  her  up  an'  mellerin'  her  down  —  the  cat, 
and  the  dog,  and  the  way  she  speaks  ter  me,  and  — 
oh,  lots  o'  things.  Why,  Miss  Pollyanna,  there 
ain't  no  tellin'  how  she'd  miss  ye  —  if  ye  wa'n't 
here,"  finished  Nancy,  speaking  with  an  enthusiastic 
certainty  that  was  meant  to  hide  the  perilous  admis- 
sion she  had  almost  made  before.  Even  then  she 
was  not  quite  prepared  for  the  sudden  joy  that 
illumined  Pollyanna's  face. 

"  Oh,  Nancy,  I'm  so  glad  —  glad  —  glad !  You 
don't  know  how  glad  I  am  that  Aunt  Polly  —  wants 
me!" 

"As  if  I'd  leave  her  now!"  thought  Pollyanna, 
as  she  climbed  the  stairs  to  her  room  a  little  later. 
"  I  always  knew  I  wanted  to  live  with  Aunt  Polly 
—  but  I  reckon  maybe  I  didn't  know  quite  how 
much  I  wanted  Aunt  Polly  —  to  want  to  live  with 
me! " 


A  Question  Answered  211 

The  task  of  telling  John  Pendleton  of  her  de- 
cision would  not  be  an  easy  one,  Pollyanna  knew, 
and  she  dreaded  it.  She  was  very  fond  of  John 
Pendleton,  and  she  was  very  sorry  for  him  —  be- 
cause he  seemed  to  be  so  sorry  for  himself.  She 
was  sorry,  too,  for  the  long-,  lonely  life  that  had 
made  him  so  unhappy;  and  she  was  grieved  that 
it  had  been  because  of  her  mother  that  he  had  spent 
those  dreary  years.  She  pictured  the  great  gray 
house  as  it  would  be  after  its  master  was  well  again, 
with  its  silent  rooms,  its  littered  floors,  its  disor- 
dered desk;  and  her  heart  ached  for  his  loneliness, 
She  wished  that  somewhere,  some  one  might  be 
found  who  —  And  it  was  at  this  point  that  she 
sprang  to  her  feet  with  a  little  cry  of  joy  at  the 
thought  that  had  come  to  her. 

As  soon  as  she  could,  after  that,  she  hurried  up 
the  hill  to  John  Pendleton's  house;  and  in  due 
time  she  found  herself  in  the  great  dim  library,  with 
John  Pendleton  himself  sitting  near  her,  his  long, 
thin  hands  lying  idle  on  the  arms  of  his  chair,  and 
his  faithful  little  dog  at  his  feet. 

"  Well,  Pollyanna,  is  it  to  be  the  '  glad  game  ' 
with  me,  all  the  rest  of  my  life?"  asked  the  man, 
jently. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  cried  Pollyanna.     "  I've  thought  of 


212  Pollyanna 

the  very  gladdest  kind  of  a  thing  for  you  to  do, 
and  —  " 

"  With  —  you? "  asked  John  Pendleton,  his 
mouth  growing  a  little  stern  at  the  corners. 

"N-no;   but  —  " 

"  Pollyanna,  you  aren't  going  to  say  no !  "  inter- 
rupted a  voice  deep  with  emotion. 

"I  —  I've  got  to,  Mr.  Pendleton ;  truly  I  have. 
Aunt  Polly  —  " 

"  Did  she  refuse  —  to  let  you  —  come?" 

"I  —  I  didn't  ask  her,"  stammered  the  little  girl, 
miserably. 

"Pollyanna!" 

Pollyanna  turned  away  her  eyes.  She  could  not 
meet  the  hurt,  grieved  gaze  of  her  friend. 

"  So  you  didn't  even  ask  her ! " 

"  I  couldn't,  sir  —  truly,"  faltered  Pollyanna. 
"  You  see,  I  found  out  —  without  asking.  Aunt 
Polly  wants  me  with  her,  and  —  and  I  want  to  stay, 
too,"  she  confessed  bravely.  "  You  don't  know 
how  good  she's  been  to  me ;  and  —  and  I  think, 
really,  sometimes  she's  beginning  to  be  glad  about 
things  —  lots  of  things.  And  you  know  she  never 
used  to  be.  You  said  it  yourself.  Oh,  Mr.  Pendle- 
ton, I  couldn't  leave  Aunt  Polly  —  now !  " 

There  was  a  long  pause.     Only  the  snapping  of 


A  Question  Answered  213 

the  wood  lire  in  the  grate  broke  the  silence.  At 
last,  however,  the  man  spoke. 

"  No,  Pollyanna ;  I  see.  You  couldn't  leave  her 
—  now,"  he  said.  "  I  won't  ask  you  —  again." 
The  last  word  was  so  low  it  was  almost  inaudible; 
but  Pollyanna  heard. 

"  Oh,  but  you  don't  know  about  the  rest  of  it," 
she  reminded  him  eagerly.  "  There's  the  very 
gladdest  thing  you  can  do  —  truly  there  is !  " 

"  Not  for  me,  Pollyanna." 

"  Yes,  sir,  for  you.  You  said  it.  You  said  only 
a  —  a  woman's  hand  and  heart  or  a  child's  presence 
could  make  a  home.  And  I  can  get  it  for  you  —  a 
child's  presence;  —  not  me,  you  know,  but  another 
one." 

"  As  if  I  would  have  any  but  you !  "  resented  an 
indignant  voice. 

"But  you  will  —  when  you  know;  you're  so 
kind  and  good !  Why,  think  of  the  prisms  and  the 
gold  pieces,  and  all  that  money  you  save  for  the 
heathen,  and  —  " 

"  Pollyanna !  "  interrupted  the  man,  savagely. 
"  Once  for  all  let  us  end  that  nonsense !  I've  tried 
to  tell  you  half  a  dozen  times  before.  There  is 
no  money  for  the  heathen.  I  never  sent  a  penny  to 
them  in  my  life.    There  1 " 


214  Pollyaxma 

i.i  p 

He  lifted  his  chin  and  braced  himself  to  meet 
what  he  expected  —  the  grieved  disappointment  of 
Pollyanna's  eyes.  To  his  amazement,  however, 
there  was  neither  grief  nor  disappointment  in  Polly- 
anna's eyes.     There  was  only  surprised  joy. 

"  Oh,  oh !  "  she  cried,  clapping  her  hands.  "  I'm 
so  glad!  That  is,"  she  corrected,  coloring  distress- 
fully, "  I  don't  mean  that  I'm  not  sorry  for  the 
heathen,  only  just  now  I  can't  help  being  glad  that 
you  don't  want  the  little  India  boys,  because  all  the 
rest  have  wanted  them.  And  so  I'm  glad  you'd 
rather  have  Jimmy  Bean.  Now  I  know  you'll  take 
him!" 

"Take  — who?" 

"  Jimmy  Bean.  He's  the  '  child's  presence/  you 
know;  and  he'll  be  so  glad  to  be  it.  I  had  to  tell 
him  last  week  that  even  my  Ladies'  Aid  out  West 
wouldn't  take  him,  and  he  was  so  disappointed. 
But  now  —  when  he  hears  of  this  —  he'll  be  so 
glad!" 

"Will  he?  Well,  I  won't,"  ejaculated  the 
man,  decisively.  "  Pollyanna,  this  is  sheer  non- 
sense !  " 

"  You  don't  mean  —  you  won't  take  him?  " 

"  I  certainly  do  mean  just  that." 

"  But  he'd  be  a  lovely  child's  presence/5  faltered 


A  Question  Answered  215 

Pollyanna.  She  was  almost  crying  now.  "  And 
you  couldn't  be  lonesome  —  with  Jimmy  'round." 

"I  don't  doubt  it,"  rejoined  the  man;  "but  — 
I  think  I  prefer  the  lonesomeness." 

It  was  then  that  Pollyanna,  for  the  first  time  in 
weeks,  suddenly  remembered  something  Nancy  had 
once  told  her.     She  raised  her  chin  aggrievedly. 

"  Maybe  you  think  a  nice  live  little  boy  wouldn't 
be  better  than  that  old  dead  skeleton  you  keep  some- 
where ;   but  I  think  it  would !  " 

"Skeleton?" 

"  Yes.  Nancy  said  you  had  one  in  your  closet 
somewhere." 

''  Why,  what  —  "  Suddenly  the  man  threw  back 
his  head  and  laughed.  He  laughed  very  heartily 
indeed  —  so  heartily  that  Pollyanna  began  to  cry 
from  pure  nervousness.  When  he  saw  that,  John 
Pendleton  sat  erect  very  promptly.  His  face  grew 
grave  at  once. 

"  Pollyanna,  I  suspect  you  are  right  —  more 
right  than  you  know,"  he  said  gently.  "  In  fact, 
I  knoiv  that  a  '  nice  live  little  boy '  would  be  far 
better  than  —  my  skeleton  in  the  closet ;  only  — 
we  aren't  always  willing  to  make  the  exchange. 
We  are  apt  to  still  cling  to  —  our  skeletons,  Polly- 
anna.    However,  suppose  you  tell  me  a  little  more 


216  Pollyanna 


about  this  nice  little  boy."  And  Pollyanna  told 
him. 

Perhaps  the  laugh  cleared  the  air;  or  perhaps 
the  pathos  of  Jimmy  Bean's  story  as  told  by  Polly- 
anna's  eager  little  lips  touched  a  heart  already 
strangely  softened.  At  all  events,  when  Pollyanna 
went  home  that  night  she  carried  with  her  an  invi- 
tation for  Jimmy  Bean  himself  to  call  at  the  great 
house  with  Pollyanna  the  next  Saturday  afternoon. 

"  And  I'm  so  glad,  and  I'm  sure  you'll  like  him," 
sighed  Pollyanna,  as  she  said  good-by.  "  I  do  so 
want  Jimmy  Bean  to  have  a  home  —  and  folks  that 
care,  you  know." 


/ 


CHAPTER    XXII 

SERMONS   AND   WOODBOXES 

On  the  afternoon  that  Pollyanna  told  John  Pen- 
dleton of  Jimmy  Bean,  the  Rev.  Paul  Ford  climbed 
the  hill  and  entered  the  Pendleton  Woods,  hoping 
that  the  hushed  beauty  of  God's  out-of-doors  would 
still  the  tumult  that  His  children  of  men  had 
wrought. 

The  Rev.  Paul  Ford  was  sick  at  heart.  Month 
by  month,  for  a  year  past,  conditions  in  the  parish 
under  him  had  been  growing  worse  and  worse; 
until  it  seemed  that  now,  turn  which  way  he  would, 
he  encountered  only  wrangling,  backbiting,  scandal, 
and  jealousy.  He  had  argued,  pleaded,  rebuked, 
and  ignored  by  turns;  and  always  and  through  all 
he  had  prayed  —  earnestly,  hopefully.  But  to-day 
miserably  he  was  forced  to  own  that  matters  were 
no  better,  but  rather  worse. 

Two  of  his  deacons  were  at  swords'  points  over 
a  silly  something  that  only  endless  brooding  had 
made  of  any  account.    Three  of  his  most  energetic 

217 


218  Pollyanna 

»  — ^—— i     ■—  ii  "      "         '  '  '     "i  h'i™  '    "     mmmmm  m  — ■—  '     ■    lg 

women  workers  had  withdrawn  from  the  Ladies' 
Aid  Society  because  a  tiny  spark  of  gossip  had  been 
fanned  by  wagging  tongues  into  a  devouring  flame 
of  scandal.  The  choir  had  split  over  the  amount  of 
solo  work  given  to  a  fanciedly  preferred  singer. 
Even  the  Christian  Endeavor  Society  was  in  a 
ferment  of  unrest  owing  to  open  criticism  of  two 
of  its  officers.  As  to  the  Sunday  school  —  it  had 
been  the  resignation  of  its  superintendent  and  two 
of  its  teachers  that  had  been  the  last  straw,  and 
that  had  sent  the  harassed  minister  to  the  quiet 
woods  for  prayer  and  meditation. 

Under  the  green  arch  of  the  trees  the  Rev.  Paul 
Ford  faced  the  thing  squarely.  To  his  mind,  the 
crisis  had  come.  Something  must  be  done  —  and 
done  at  once.  The  entire  work  of  the  church  was 
at  a  standstill.  The  Sunday  services,  the  week-day 
prayer  meeting,  the  missionary  teas,  even  the  sup- 
pers and  socials  were  becoming  less  and  less  well 
attended.  True,  a  few  conscientious  workers  were 
still  left.  But  they  pulled  at  cross  purposes,  usually; 
and  always  they  showed  themselves  to  be  acutely 
aware  of  the  critical  eyes  all  about  them,  and  of 
the  tongues  that  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  talk  about 
what  the  eyes  saw. 

And  because  of   all   this,   the   Rev.    Paul   Ford 


Sermons  and  Woodboxes  21& 

understood  very  well  that  he  (God's  minister),  the 
church,  the  town,  and  even  Christianity  itself  was 
suffering ;   and  must  suffer  still  more  unless  — 

Clearly  something-  must  be  done,  and  done  at 
once.     But  what? 

Slowly  the  minister  took  from  his  pocket  the 
notes  he  had  made  for  his  next  Sunday's  sermon. 
Frowningly  he  looked  at  them.  His  mouth  settled 
into  stern  lines,  as  aloud,  very  impressively,  he  read 
the  verses  on  which  he  had  determined  to  speak : 

"  '  But  woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hyp- 
ocrites! for  ye  shut  up  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
against  men :  for  ye  neither  go  in  yourselves, 
neither  suffer  ye  them  that  are  entering  to  go  in.' 

"  '  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypo- 
crites! for  ye  devour  widows'  houses,  and  for  a 
pretence  make  long  prayer :  therefore  ye  shall  re- 
ceive the  greater  damnation.' 

"  '  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypo- 
crites! for  ye  pay  tithe  of  mint  and  anise  and 
cummin,  and  have  omitted  the  weightier  matters 
of  the  law,  judgment,  mercy,  and  faith :  these 
ought  ye  to  have  done,  and  not  to  leave  the  other 
undone.'  " 

It  was  a  bitter  denunciation.  In  the  green  aisles 
of  the  woods,  the  minister's  deep  voice  rang  out 


220  Pollyanna 

with  scathing  effect.  Even  the  birds  and  squirrels 
seemed  hushed  into  awed  silence.  It  brought  to 
the  minister  a  vivid  realization  of  how  those  words 
would  sound  the  next  Sunday  when  he  should  utter 
them  before  his  people  in  the  sacred  hush  of  the 
church. 

His  people !  —  they  were  his  people.  Could  he 
do  it?  Dare  he  do  it?  Dare  he  not  do  it?  It  was 
a  fearful  denunciation,  even  without  the  words  that 
would  follow  —  his  own  words.  He  had  prayed 
and  prayed.  He  had  pleaded  earnestly  for  help, 
for  guidance.  He  longed  —  oh,  how  earnestly  he 
ionged !  —  to  take  now,  in  this  crisis,  the  right  step. 
But  was  this  —  the  right  step? 

Slowly  the  minister  folded  the  papers  and  thrust 
them  back  into  his  pocket.  Then,  with  a  sigh  that 
was  almost  a  moan,  he  flung  himself  down  at  the 
foot  of  a  tree,  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

It  was  there  that  Pollyanna,  on  her  way  home 
from  the  Pendleton  house,  found  him.  With  a 
little  cry  she  ran  forward. 

"  Oh,  oh,  Mr.  Ford !  You  —  you  haven't  broken 
your  leg  or  —  or  anything,  have  you?  "  she  gasped. 

The  minister  dropped  his  hands,  and  looked  up 
quickly.     He  tried  to  smile. 

"  No,  dear  —  no,  indeed !     I'm  just  —  resting." 


Sermons  and  Woodboxes  221 

"  Oh,"  sighed  Pollyanna,  falling  back  a  little. 
"  That's  all  right,  then.  You  see,  Mr.  Pendleton 
had  broken  his  leg  when  I  found  him  —  but  he  was 
lying  down,  though.    And  you  are  sitting  up." 

"  Yes,  I  am  sitting  up ;  and  I  haven't  broken 
anything  —  that  doctors  can  mend." 

The  last  words  were  very  low,  but  Pollyanna 
heard  them.  A  swift  change  crossed  her  face. 
Her  eyes  glowed  with  tender  sympathy. 

"  I  know  what  you  mean  —  something  plagues 
you.  Father  used  to  feel  like  that,  lots  of  times. 
I  reckon  ministers  do  —  most  generally.  You  see 
there's  such  a  lot  depends  on  'em,  somehow." 

The  Rev.  Paul  Ford  turned  a  little  wonder- 
ingly. 

"  Was  your  father  a  minister,  Pollyanna  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  Didn't  you  know?  I  supposed  every- 
body knew  that.  He  married  Aunt  Polly's  sister, 
and  she  was  my  mother." 

"  Oh,  I  understand.  But,  you  see,  I  haven't  been 
here  many  years,  so  I  don't  know  all  the  family 
histories." 

"  Yes,  sir  —  I  mean,  no,  sir,"  smiled  Pollyanna. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  The  minister,  still  sit- 
ting at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  appeared  to  have  for- 
gotten Pollyanna's  presence.     He  had  pulled  some 


222  Pollyanna 

papers  from  his  pocket  and  unfolded  them;  but  he 
was  not  looking-  at  them.  He  was  gazing,  instead, 
at  a  leaf  on  the  ground  a  little  distance  away  — 
and  it  was  not  even  a  pretty  leaf.  It  was  brown 
and  dead.  Pollyanna,  looking  at  him,  felt  vaguely 
sorry  for  him. 

"  It  —  it's  a  nice  day,"  she  began  hopefully. 

For  a  moment  there  was  no  answer;  then  the 
minister  looked  up  with  a  start. 

"  What  ?    Oh !  —  yes,  it  is  a  very  nice  day." 

"  And  'tisn't  cold  at  all,  either,  even  if  'tis  Octo- 
ber," observed  Pollyanna,  still  more  hopefully. 
"  Mr.  Pendleton  had  a  fire,  but  he  said  he  didn't 
need  it.  It  was  just  to  look  at.  I  like  to  look  at 
fires,  don't  you?  " 

There  was  no  reply  this  time,  though  Polly- 
anna waited  patiently,  before  she  tried  again  —  by 
a  new  route. 

"  Do  you  like  being  a  minister?  " 

The  Rev.  Paul  Ford  looked  up  now,  very  quickly. 

"  Do  I  like  —  Why,  what  an  odd  question ! 
Why  do  you  ask  that,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  Nothing  —  only  the  way  you  looked.  It  made 
me  think  of  my  father.  He  used  to  look  like  that 
—  sometimes." 

"  Did  he?  "    The  minister's  voiee  was  polite,  but 


Sermons  and  Woodboxes  223 

his  eyes  had  gone  back  to  the  dried  leaf  on  the 
ground. 

"  Yes,  and  I  used  to  ask  him  just  as  I  did  you 
if  he  was  glad  he  was  a  minister." 

The  man  under  the  tree  smiled  a  little  sadly. 

"Well  — what  did  he  say?" 

"  Oh,  he  always  said  he  was,  of  course,  but  'most 
always  he  said,  too,  that  he  wouldn't  stay  a  minister 
a  minute  if  'twasn't  for  the  rejoicing  texts." 

"The  —  what?"  The  Rev.  Paul  Ford's  eyes 
left  the  leaf  and  gazed  wonderingly  into  Pollyanna's 
merry  little  face. 

"  Well,  that's  what  father  used  to  call  'em,"  she 
laughed.  "Of  course  the  Bible  didn't  name  'em 
that.  But  it's  all  those  that  begin  '  Be  glad  in  the 
Lord,'  or  '  Rejoice  greatly,'  or  '  Shout  for  joy,' 
and  all  that,  you  know  —  such  a  lot  of  'em.  Once, 
when  father  felt  specially  bad,  he  counted  'em. 
There  were  eight  hundred  of  'em." 

"  Eight  hundred  !  " 

"  Yes  —  that  told  you  to  rejoice  and  be  glad, 
you  know;  that's  why  father  named  'em  the  '  re- 
joicing texts.'  " 

"  Oh !  "  There  was  an  odd  look  on  the  min- 
ister's face.  His  eyes  had  fallen  to  the  words  on 
the  top  paper  in  his  hands  —  "  But  woe  unto  you 


224  Pollyanna 


scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites !  "  "  And  so  your 
father  —  liked  those  '  rejoicing  texts,'  "  he  mur- 
mured. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  nodded  Pollyanna,  emphatically. 
"  He  said  he  felt  better  right  away,  that  first  day 
he  thought  to  count  'em.  He  said  if  God  took  the 
trouble  to  tell  us  eight  hundred  times  to  be  glad 
and  rejoice,  He  must  want  us  to  do  it  —  some. 
And  father  felt  ashamed  that  he  hadn't  done  it 
more.  After  that,  they  got  to  be  such  a  comfort 
to  him,  you  know,  when  things  went  wrong;  when 
the  Ladies'  Aiders  got  to  fight —  I  mean,  when 
they  didn't  agree  about  something,"  corrected  Pol- 
lyanna, hastily.  "  Why,  it  was  those  texts,  too, 
father  said,  that  made  him  think  of  the  game  —  he 
began  with  me  on  the  crutches  —  but  he  said  'twas 
the  rejoicing  texts  that  started  him  on  it." 

"  And  what  game  might  that  be  ? "  asked  the 
minister. 

"  About  finding  something  in  everything  to  be 
glad  about,  you  know.  As  I  said,  he  began  with 
me  on  the  crutches."  And  once  more  Pollyanna 
told  her  story  —  this  time  to  a  man  who  listened 
with  tender  eyes  and  understanding  ears. 

A  little  later  Pollyanna  and  the  minister  de- 
scended the  hill,  hand  in  hand.     Pollyanna's  face 


Sermons  ana  Woodtooxes  224 

was  radiant.  Pollyanna  loved  to  talk,  and  she  had 
been  talking  now  for  some  time :  there  seemed  to 
be  so  many,  many  things  about  the  game,  her  father, 
and  the  old  home  life  that  the  minister  wanted  to 
know. 

At  the  foot  of  the  hill  their  ways  parted,  and 
Pollyanna  down  one  road,  and  the  minister  down 
another,  walked  on  alone. 

In  the  Rev.  Paul  Ford's  study  that  evening  the 
minister  sat  thinking.  Near  him  on  the  desk  lay 
a  few  loose  sheets  of  paper  —  his  sermon  notes. 
Under  the  suspended  pencil  in  his  fingers  lay  other 
sheets  of  paper,  blank  —  his  sermon  to  be.  But  the 
minister  was  not  thinking  either  of  what  he  had 
written,  or  of  what  he  intended  to  write.  In  his 
imagination  he  was  far  away  in  a  little  Western 
town  with  a  missionary  minister  who  was  poor, 
sick,  worried,  and  almost  alone  in  the  world  —  but 
who  was  poring  over  the  Bible  to  find  how  many 
times  his  Lord  and  Master  had  told  him  to  "  re- 
joice and  be  glad." 

After  a  time,  with  a  long  sigh,  the  Rev.  Paul 
Ford  roused  himself,  came  back  from  the  far  West- 
ern town,  and  adjusted  the  sheets  of  paper  under 
his  hand. 

"Matthew  twenty-third;    13  —  14  and  23,"  he 


226  Foiiyanna 

wrote;  then,  with  a  gesture  of  impatience,  he 
dropped  his  pencil  and  pulled  toward  him  a  maga- 
zine left  on  the  desk  by  his  wife  a  few  minutes 
before.  Listlessly  his  tired  eyes  turned  from  para- 
graph to  paragraph  until  these  words  arrested 
them : 

"  A  father  one  day  said  to  his  son,  Tom,  who, 
he  knew,  had  refused  to  fill  his  mother's  woodbox 
that  morning:  'Tom,  I'm  sure  you'll  be  glad  to 
go  and  bring  in  some  wood  for  your  mother.'  And 
without  a  word  Tom  went.  Why?  Just  because 
his  father  showed  so  plainly  that  he  expected  him 
to  do  the  right  thing.  Suppose  he  had  said  :  '  Tom, 
I  overheard  what  you  said  to  your  mother  this 
morning,  and  I'm  ashamed  of  you.  Go  at  once 
and  fill  that  woodbox ! '  I'll  warrant  that  woodbox 
would  be  empty  yet,  so  far  as  Tom  was  concerned !  " 

On  and  on  read  the  minister  —  a  word  here,  a 
line  there,  a  paragraph  somewhere  else: 

"  What  men  and  women  need  is  encouragement. 
Their  natural  resisting  powers  should  be  strength- 
ened, not  weakened.  .  .  .  Instead  of  always  harp- 
ing on  a  man's  faults,  tell  him  of  his  virtues.  Try 
to  pull  him  out  of  his  rut  of  bad  habits.  Hold  up 
to  him  his  better  self,  his  real  self  that  can  dare 
and  do  and  win  out !  .  .  .  The  influence  of  a  beau- 


Sermons  and  Woodboxes  227 

tiful,  helpful,  hopeful  character  is  contagious,  and 
may  revolutionize  a  whole  town.  .  .  .  People  radi- 
ate what  is  in  their  minds  and  in  their  hearts.  If 
a  man  feels  kindly  and  obliging,  his  neighbors  will 
feel  that  way,  too,  before  long.  But  if  he  scolds 
and  scowls  and  criticizes  —  his  neighbors  will  re- 
turn scowl  for  scowl,  and  add  interest!  .  .  .  When 
you  look  for  the  bad,  expecting  it,  you  will  get  it. 
When  you  know  you  will  find  the  good  —  you  will 
get  that.  .  .  .  Tell  your  son  Tom  you  know  he'll 
be.  glad  to  fill  that  woodbox  —  then  watch  him  start, 
alert  and  interested !  " 

The  minister  dropped  the  paper  and  lifted  his 
chin.  In  a  moment  he  was  on  his  feet,  tramping 
the  narrow  room  back  and  forth,  back  and  forth. 
Later,  some  time  later,  he  drew  a  long  breath,  and 
dropped  himself  in  the  chair  at  his  desk. 

"God  helping  me,  I'll  do  it!"  he  cried  softly. 
"  I'll  tell  all  my  Toms  I  know  they'll  be  glad  to  fill 
that  woodbox!  I'll  give  them  work  to  do,  and  I'll 
make  them  so  full  of  the  very  joy  of  doing  it  that 
they  won't  have  time  to  look  at  their  neighbors' 
woodboxes !  "  And  he  picked  up  his  sermon  notes, 
tore  straight  through  the  sheets,  and  cast  them 
from  him,  so  that  on  one  side  of  his  chair  lay 
"  But  woe  unto  you,"  and  on  the  other,  "  scribes 


228  Pollyanna 


and  Pharisees,  hypocrites ! "  while  across  the 
smooth  white  paper  before  him  his  pencil  fairly 
flew  —  after  first  drawing  one  black  line  through 
"Matthew  twenty-third;    13  —  14  and  23." 

Thus  it  happened  that  the  Rev.  Paul  Ford's  ser- 
mon the  next  Sunday  was  a  veritable  bugle-call 
to  the  best  that  was  in  every  man  and  woman  and 
child  that  heard  it;  and  its  text  was  one  of  Polly- 
anna's  shining  eight  hundred : 

"  Be  glad  in  the  Lord  and  rejoice,  ye  righteous, 
and  shout  for  joy  all  ye  that  are  upright  in  heart." 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

AN   ACCIDENT 

At  Mrs.  Snow's  request,  Pollyanna  went  one 
day  to  Dr.  Chilton's  office  to  get  the  name  of  a 
medicine  which  Mrs.  Snow  had  forgotten.  As  it 
chanced,  Pollyanna  had  never  before  seen  the  in- 
side of  Dr.  Chilton's  office. 

"  I've  never  been  to  your  home  before !  This  is 
your  home,  isn't  it?  "  she  said,  looking  interestedly 
about  her. 

The  doctor  smiled  a  little  sadly. 

"  Yes  —  such  as  'tis,"  he  answered,  as  he  wrote 
something  on  the  pad  of  paper  in  his  hand ;  "  but 
it's  a  pretty  poor  apology  for  a  home,  Pollyanna. 
They're  just  rooms,  that's  all  —  not  a  home." 

Pollyanna  nodded  her  head  wisely.  Her  eyes 
glowed  with  sympathetic  understanding. 

"  I  know.  It  takes  a  woman's  hand  and  heart, 
or  a  child's  presence  to  make  a  home,"  she  said. 

"Eh?"    The  doctor  wheeled  about  abruptly. 

"  Mr.  Pendleton  told  me,"  nodded  Pollyanna, 
229 


230  Pollyanna 


again ;  "  about  the  woman's  hand  and  heart,  or  the 
child's  presence,  you  know.  Why  don't  you  get  a 
woman's  hand  and  heart,  Dr.  Chilton?  Or  maybe 
you'd  take  Jimmy  Bean  —  if  Mr.  Pendleton  doesn't 
want  him." 

Dr.  Chilton  laughed  a  little  constrainedly. 

"  So  Mr.  Pendleton  says  it  takes  a  woman's  hand 
and  heart  to  make  a  home,  does  he?"  he  asked 
evasively. 

"  Yes.  He  says  his  is  just  a  house,  too.  Why 
don't  you,  Dr.  Chilton?" 

"Why  don't  I  — what?"  The  doctor  had 
turned  back  to  his  desk. 

"  Get  a  woman's  hand  and  heart.  Oh  —  and  I 
forgot."  Pollyanna's  face  showed  suddenly  a  pain- 
ful color.  "  I  suppose  I  ought  to  tell  you.  It  wasn't 
Aunt  Polly  that  Mr.  Pendleton  loved  long  ago; 
and  so  we  —  we  aren't  going  there  to  live.  You 
see,  I  told  you  it  was  —  but  I  made  a  mistake.  I 
hope  you  didn't  tell  any  one,"  she  finished  anxiously. 

"  No  —  I  didn't  tell  any  one,  Pollyanna,"  re- 
plied the  doctor,  a  little  queerly. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,  then,"  sighed  Pollyanna  in 
relief.  "  You  see  you're  the  only  one  I  told,  and 
I  thought  Mr.  Pendleton,  looked  sort  of  funny  wheo 
I  said  I'd  told  you!' 


An  Accident  93~x 


"  Did  he  ?  "     The  doctor's  lips  twitched. 

"  Yes.  And  of  course  he  wouldn't  want  many 
people  to  know  it  —  when  'twasn't  true.  But  wb;« 
don't  you  get  a  woman's  hand  and  heart,  Dr.  Chil- 
ton?" 

There  was  a  moment's  silence ;  then  very  gravely 
the  doctor  said : 

"  They're  not  always  to  be  had  —  for  the  asking, 
little  girl." 

Pollyanna  frowned  thoughtfully. 

"  But  I  should  think  you  could  get  'em,"  she 
argued.    The  flattering  emphasis  was  unmistakable. 

"  Thank  you,"  laughed  the  doctor,  with  uplifted 
eyebrows.  Then,  gravely  again  :  "  I'm  afraid  some 
of  your  older  sisters  would  not  be  quite  so  —  con- 
fident. At  least,  they  —  they  haven't  shown  them- 
selves to  be  so  —  obliging,"  he  observed. 

Pollyanna  frowned  again.  Then  her  ey°s  wi- 
dened in  surprise. 

"  Why,  Dr.  Chilton,  you  don't  mean  —  you 
didn't  try  to  get  somebody's  hand  and  heart  once, 
like  Mr.  Pendleton,  and  —  and  couldn't,  did  you?" 

The  doctor  got  to  his  feet  a  little  abruptly. 

"  There,  there,  Pollyanna,  never  mind  about  that 
now.  Don't  let  other  people's  troubles  worry  your 
little  head.     Suppose  you  run  back  now  to  Mrs. 


232  Pollyanna 

Snow.  I've  written  down  the  name  of  the  medicine, 
and  the  directions  how  she  is  to  take  it.  Was  there 
anything  else?  " 

Pollyanna  shook  her  head. 

"No,  sir;  thank  you,  sir,"  she  murmured  so* 
berly,  as  she  turned  toward  the  door.  From  the 
little  hallway  she  called  back,  her  face  suddenly 
alight :  "  Anyhow,  I'm  glad  'twasn't  my  mother's 
hand  and  heart  that  you  wanted  and  couldn't  get, 
Dr.  Chilton.     Good-by!" 

It  was  on  the  last  day  of  October  that  the  acci- 
dent occurred.  Pollyanna,  hurrying  home  from 
school,  crossed  the  road  at  an  apparently  safe  dis- 
tance in  front  of  a  swiftly  approaching  motor  car. 

Just  what  happened,  no  one  could  seem  to  tell 
afterward.  Neither  was  there  any  one  found  who 
could  tell  why  it  happened  or  who  was  to  blame  that 
it  did  happen.  Pollyanna,  however,  at  five  o'clock, 
was  borne,  limp  and  unconscious,  into  the  little  room 
that  was  so  dear  to  her.  There,  by  a  white-faced 
Aunt  Polly  and  a  weeping  Nancy  she  was  un- 
dressed tenderly  and  put  to  bed,  while  from  the 
village,  hastily  summoned  by  telephone,  Dr.  War- 
ren was  hurrying  as  fast  as  another  motor  car  could 
briii0,  him= 


An  Accident  23$ 


"  And  ye  didn't  need  ter  more'n  look  at  her 
aunt's  face,"  Nancy  was  sobbing  to  Old  Tom  in  the 
garden,  after  the  doctor  had  arrived  and  was  clos- 
eted in  the  hushed  room ;  "  ye  didn't  need  ter 
more'n  look  at  her  aunt's  face  ter  see  that  'twa'n't 
no  duty  that  was  eatin'  her.  Yer  hands  don't  shake, 
and  yer  eyes  don't  look  as  if  ye  was  tryin'  ter  hold 
back  the  Angel  o'  Death  himself,  when  you're  jest 
doin'  yer  duty,  Mr.  Tom  —  they  don't,  they  don't!  " 

"  Is  she  hurt  —  bad  ?  "  The  old  man's  voice 
shook. 

"  There  ain't  no  tellin',"  sobbed  Nancy.  "  She 
lay  back  that  white  an'  still  she  might  easy  be  dead ; 
but  Miss  Polly  said  she  wa'n't  dead  —  an'  Miss 
Polly  had  oughter  know,  if  any  one  would  —  she 
kept  up  such  a  listenin'  an'  a  feelin'  for  her  heart- 
beats an'  her  breath !  " 

"  Couldn't  ye  tell  anythin'  what  it  done  to  her? 
—  that  —  that  —  "  Old  Tom's  face  worked  con- 
vulsively. 

Nancy's  lips  relaxed  a  little. 

"  I  wish  ye  would  call  it  somethin',  Mr.  Tom  — 
an'  somethin'  good  an'  strong,  too.  Drat  it!  Ter 
think  of  its  runnin'  down  our  little  girl !  I  always 
hated  the  evil-smellin'  things,  anyhow  —  I  did,  I 
did!" 


£34  PoIIyanna 


"  But  where  is  she  hurt?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I  don't  know,"  moaned  Nancy. 
"  There's  a  little  cut  on  her  blessed  head,  but  'tain't 
bad  —  that  ain't  —  Miss  Polly  says.  She  says  she's 
afraid  it's  infernally  she's  hurt." 

A  faint  flicker  came  into  Old  Tom's  eyes. 

"  I  guess  you  mean  internally,  Nancy,"  he  said 
dryly.  "  She's  hurt  infernally,  all  right  —  plague 
take  that  autymobile !  —  but  I  don't  guess  Miss 
Polly 'd  be  usin'  that  word,  all  the  same." 

"Eh?  Well,  I  don't  know,  I  don't  know," 
moaned  Nancy,  with  a  shake  of  her  head  as  she 
turned  away.  "  Seems  as  if  I  jest  couldn't  stand  it 
till  that  doctor  gits  out  o'  there.  I  wish  I  had  a 
washin'  ter  do  —  the  biggest  washin'  I  ever  see,  I 
-do,  I  do !  "  she  wailed,  wringing  her  hands  help- 
lessly. 

Even  after  the  doctor  was  gone,  however,  there 
seemed  to  be  little  that  Nancy  could  tell  Mr.  Tom. 
There  appeared  to  be  no  bones  broken,  and  the  cut 
was  of  slight  consequence;  but  the  doctor  had 
looked  very  grave,  had  shaken  his  head  slowly,  and 
had  said  that  time  alone  could  tell.  After  he  had 
gone,  Miss  Polly  had  shown  a  face  even  whiter  and 
more  drawn  looking  than  before.  The  patient  had 
■not  fully  recovered  consciousness,  but  at  present  she 


An  Accident  235 


seemed  to  be  resting  as  comfortably  as  could  be 
expected.  A  trained  nurse  had  been  sent  for,  and 
would  come  that  night.  That  was  all.  And  Nancy 
turned  sobbingly,  and  went  back  to  her  kitchen. 

It  was  sometime  during  the  next  forenoon  that 
Pollyanna  opened  conscious  eyes  and  realized  where 
she  was. 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  what's  the  matter  ?  Isn't  it 
daytime?  Why  don't  I  get  up?"  she  cried. 
"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  I  can't  get  up,"  she  moaned, 
falling  back  on  the  pillow,  after  an  ineffectual  at- 
tempt to  lift  herself. 

"  No,  dear,  I  wouldn't  try  —  just  yet,"  soothed 
her  aunt  quickly,  but  very  quietly. 

"  But  what  is  the  matter  ?    Why  can't  I  get  up  ?  " 

Miss  Polly's  eyes  asked  an  agonized  question  of 
the  white-capped  young  woman  standing  in  the 
window,  out  of  the  range  of  Pollyanna's  eyes. 

The  young  woman  nodded. 

"  Tell  her,"  the  lips  said. 

Miss  Polly  cleared  her  throat,  and  tried  to  swal- 
low the  lump  that  would  scarcely  let  her  speak. 

"  You  were  hurt,  dear,  by  the  automobile  last 
night.  But  never  mind  that  now.  Auntie  wants 
you  to  rest  and  go  to  sleep  again." 

"  Hurt?    Oh,  yes;  I  —  I  ran."    Pollyanna's  eyes 


236  Pollyanna 

were  dazed.  She  lifted  her  hand  to  her  forehead. 
"  Why,  it's  —  done  up,  and  it  —  hurts !  " 

"  Yes,  dear;  but  never  mind.    Just  —  just  rest." 

"  But,  Aunt  Polly,  I  feel  so  funny,  and  so  bad ! 
My  legs  feel  so  —  so  queer  —  only  they  don't  feel 
—  at  all !  " 

With  an  imploring  look  into  the  nurse's  face9 
Miss  Polly  struggled  to  her  feet,  and  turned  away. 
The  nurse  came  forward  quickly. 

"  Suppose  you  let  me  talk  to  you  now,"  she  be- 
gan cheerily.  "  I'm  sure  I  think  it's  high  time  we 
were  getting  acquainted,  and  I'm  going  to  introduce 
myself.  I  am  Miss  Hunt,  and  I've  come  to  help 
your  aunt  take  care  of  you.  And  the  very  first  thing 
I'm  going  to  do  is  to  ask  you  to  swallow  these  little 
white  pills  for  me." 

Pollyanna's  eyes  grew  a  bit  wild. 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  be  taken  care  of  —  that  is, 
not  for  long !  I  want  to  get  up.  You  know  I  go  to 
school.     Can't  I  go  to  school  to-morrow?" 

From  the  window  where  Aunt  Polly  stood  now 
there  came  a  half -stifled  cry. 

"To-morrow?"  smiled  the  nurse,  brightly. 
"  Well,  I  may  not  let  you  out  quite  so  soon  as  that, 
Miss  Pollyanna.  But  just  swallow  these  little  pills 
for  me,  please,  and  we'll  see  what  they'll  do." 


An  Accident  23T 


"  All  right,"  agreed  Pollyanna,  somewhat  doubt- 
fully; "  but  I  must  go  to  school  day  after  to-morrow 
—  there  are  examinations  then,  you  know." 

She  spoke  again,  a  minute  later.  She  spoke  of 
school,  and  of  the  automobile,  and  of  how  her  head 
ached;  but  very  soon  her  voice  trailed  into  silence 
under  the  blessed  influence  of  the  little  white  pills 
she  had  swallowed. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

JOHN    PENDLETON 

Pollyanna  did  not  go  to  school  "  to-morrow/* 
nor  the  "  day  after  to-morrow."  Pollyanna,  how- 
ever, did  not  realize  this,  except  momentarily  when 
a  brief  period  of  full  consciousness  sent  insistent 
questions  to  her  lips.  Pollyanna  did  not  realize 
anything,  in  fact,  very  clearly  until  a  week  had 
passed;  then  the  fever  subsided,  the  pain  lessened 
somewhat,  and  her  mind  awoke  to  full  conscious- 
ness. She  had  then  to  be  told  all  over  again  what 
had  occurred. 

"  And  so  it's  hurt  that  I  am,  and  not  sick,"  she 
sighed  at  last.     "  Well,  I'm  glad  of  that." 

"  G-glad,  Pollyanna  ?  "  asked  her  aunt,  who  was 
sitting  by  the  bed. 

"  Yes.  I'd  so  much  rather  have  broken  legs  like 
Mr.  Pendleton's  than  life-long-invalids  like  Mrs. 
Snow,  you  know.  Broken  legs  get  well,  and  life- 
long-invalids don't." 

238 


Jonn  Pendleton  m* 


Miss  Polly  —  who  had  said  nothing  whatever 
about  broken  legs  —  got  suddenly  to  her  feet  and 
walked  to  the  little  dressing  table  across  the  room. 
She  was  picking  up  one  object  after  another  now, 
and  putting  each  down,  in  an  aimless  fashion  quite 
unlike  her  usual  decisiveness.  Her  face  was  not 
aimless-looking  at  all,  however;  it  was  white  and 
drawn. 

On  the  bed  Pollyanna  lay  blinking  at  the  dancing 
band  of  colors  on  the  ceiling,  which  came  from  one 
of  the  prisms  in  the  window. 

"  I'm  glad  it  isn't  smallpox  that  ails  me,  too," 
she  murmured  contentedly.  "  That  would  be  worse 
than  freckles.    And  I'm  glad  'tisn't  whooping  cough 

—  I've  had  that,  and  it's  horrid  —  and  I'm  glad 
'tisn't  appendicitis  nor  measles,  'cause  they're  catch- 
ing —  measles  are,  I  mean  —  and  they  wouldn't  let 
you  stay  here." 

"  You  seem  to  —  to  be  glad  for  a  good  many 
things,  my  dear,"  faltered  Aunt  Polly,  putting  het 
hand  to  her  throat  as  if  her  collar  bound. 

Pollyanna  laughed  softly. 

"  I  am.     I've  been  thinking  of  'em  —  lots  of  'em 

—  all  the  time  I've  been  looking  up  at  that  rain- 
bow. I  love  rainbows.  I'm  so  glad  Mr.  Pendleton 
gave  me  those  prisms!    I'm  glad  of  some  things  I 


240  Pollyanna 

haven't  said  yet.  I  don't  know  but  I'm  'most  glad 
I  was  hurt." 

"Pollyanna!" 

Pollyanna  laughed  softly  again.  She  turned 
luminous  eyes  on  her  aunt.  "  Well,  you  see,  since 
I  have  been  hurt,  you've  called  me  '  dear '  lots  of 
times  —  and  you  didn't  before.  I  love  to  be  called 
'  dear '  —  by  folks  that  belong  to  you,  I  mean. 
Some  of  the  Ladies'  Aiders  did  call  me  that;  and 
of  course  that  was  pretty  nice,  but  not  so  nice  as 
if  they  had  belonged  to  me,  like  you  do.  Oh,  Aunt 
Polly,  I'm  so  glad  you  belong  to  me !  " 

Aunt  Polly  did  not  answer.  Her  hand  was  at 
her  throat  again.  Her  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  She 
had  turned  away  and  was  hurrying  from  the  room 
through  the  door  by  which  the  nurse  had  just  en- 
tered. 

It  was  that  afternoon  that  Nancy  ran  out  to  Old 
Tom,  who  was  cleaning  harnesses  in  the  barn.  Her 
eyes  were  wild. 

"  Mr.  Tom,  Mr.  Tom.  ?uess  what's  happened," 
sne  panted.  "  You  couldn't  guess  in  a  thousand 
years  —  you  couldn't,  you  couldn't !  " 

"  Then  I  cal'late  I  won't  try,"  retorted  the  man, 
grimly,  "  specially  as  I  hain't  got  more'n  ten  ter 


John  Pendleton  241 

<  . .    _  i 

live,  anyhow,  probably.  You'd  better  tell  me  first 
off,  Nancy." 

"  Well,  listen,  then.  Who  do  you  s'pose  is  in  the 
parlor  now  with  the  mistress?     Who,  I  say?" 

Old  Tom  shook  his  head. 

"  There's  no  tellin',''  he  declared. 

"  Yes,  there  is.  I'm  tellin'.  It's  —  John  Pen- 
dleton !  " 

"  Sho,  now !     You're  jokin',  girl." 

"  Not  much  I  am  —  an'  me  a-lettin'  him  in  my- 
self—  crutches  an'  all!  An'  the  team  he  come  in 
a-waitin'  this  minute  at  the  door  for  him,  jest  as  if 
he  wa'n't  the  cranky  old  crosspatch  he  is,  what 
never  talks  ter  no  one !  Jest  think,  Mr.  Tom  —  him 
a-callin'  on  her! " 

"Well,  why  not?"  demanded  the  old  man,  a 
little  aggressively. 

Nancy  gave  him  a  scornful  glance. 

"  As  if  you  didn't  know  better'n  me !  "  she  de- 
rided. 

"Eh?" 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  be  so  innercent,"  she  retorted 
with  mock  indignation ;  "  —  you  what  led  me  wild- 
goose  chasin'  in  the  first  place!  ** 

"  What  do  ye  mean  ?  " 

Nancy    glanced    through   the    open    barn    door 


242  Pollyanna 

toward  the  house,  and  came  a  step  nearer  to  the 
old  man. 

"  Listen !  'Twas  you  that  was  tellin'  me  Miss 
Polly  had  a  lover  in  the  first  place,  wa'n't  it  ?  Well, 
one  day  I  thinks  I  finds  two  and  two,  and  I  puts  'em 
tergether  an'  makes  four.  But  it  turns  out  ter  be 
five  —  an'  no  four  at  all,  at  all !  " 

With  a  gesture  of  indifference  Old  Tom  turned 
and  fell  to  work. 

"If  you're  goin'  ter  talk  ter  me,  you've  got  ter 
talk  plain  horse  sense,"  he  declared  testily.  "  I 
never  was  no  hand  for  Aggers." 

Nancy  laughed. 

"  Well,  it's  this,"  she  explained.  "  I  heard  some- 
thin'  that  made  me  think  him  an'  Miss  Polly  was 
lovers." 

"Mr.  Pendleton!"    Old  Tom  straightened  up. 

"  Yes.  Oh,  I  know  now ;  he  wasn't.  It  was  that 
blessed  child's  mother  he  was  in  love  with,  and  that's 
why  he  wanted  —  but  never  mind  that  part,"  she 
added  hastily,  remembering  just  in  time  her  prom- 
ise to  Pollyanna  not  to  tell  that  Mr.  Pendleton  had 
wished  her  to  come  and  live  with  him.  "  Well, 
I've  been  askin'  folks  about  him  some,  since,  and 
I've  found  out  that  him  an'  Miss  Polly  hain't  been 
friends  for  years,  an'  that  she's  been  hatin'  him 


John  Pendleton  243 

like  pizen  owin  ter  the  silly  gossip  that  coupled 
their  names  tergether  when  she  was  eighteen  or 
twenty." 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  nodded  Old  Tom.  "  It  was 
three  or  four  years  after  Miss  Jennie  give  him  the 
mitten  and  went  off  with  the  other  chap.  Miss 
Polly  knew  about  it,  of  course,  and  was  sorry  for 
him.  So  she  tried  ter  be  nice  to  him.  Maybe  she 
overdid  it  a  little  —  she  hated  that  minister  chap 
so  who  had  took  off  her  sister.  At  any  rate,  some- 
body begun  ter  make  trouble.  They  said  she  was 
runnin'  after  him." 

"  Runnin'  after  any  man  —  her!"  interjected 
Nancy. 

"  I  know  it;  but  they  did,"  declared  Old  Tom, 
"  and  of  course  no  gal  of  any  spunk'll  stand  that. 
Then  about  that  time  come  her  own  lover  an'  the 
trouble  with  him.  After  that  she  shut  up  like  an 
oyster  an'  wouldn't  have  nothin'  ter  do  with  nobody 
fur  a  spell.  Her  heart  jest  seemed  to  turn  bitter  at 
the  core." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  I've  heard  about  that  now,"  re- 
joined Nancy;  "an'  that's  why  you  could  'a' 
knocked  me  down  with  a  feather  when  I  see  him 
at  the  door  —  him,  what  she  hain't  spoke  to  for 
years !    But  I  let  him  in  an'  went  an'  told  her." 


£44  Polly-anna 

1    :  ,  '  aaa 

"  What  did  she  say  ?  "  Old  Tom  held  his  breath 
suspended. 

"  Nothin'  —  at  first.  She  was  so  still  I  thought 
she  hadn't  heard;  and  I  was  jest  goin'  ter  say  it 
over  when  she  speaks  up  quiet  like :  '  Tell  Mr.  Pen- 
dleton I  will  be  down  at  once.'  An'  I  come  an'  told 
him.  Then  I  come  out  here  an'  told  you,"  finished 
Nancy,  casting  another  backward  glance  toward 
the  house. 

"  Humph !  "  grunted  Old  Tom ;  and  fell  to  work 
again. 

In  the  ceremonious  "  parlor  "  of  the  Harrington 
homestead,  Mr.  John  Pendleton  did  not  have  to 
wait  long  before  a  swift  step  warned  him  of  Miss 
Polly's  coming.  As  he  attempted  to  rise,  she  made 
a  gesture  of  remonstrance.  She  did  not  offer  her 
hand,  however,  and  her  face  was  coldly  reserved. 

"  I  called  to  ask  for  —  Pollyanna,"  he  began  at 
once,  a  little  brusquely. 

"  Thank  you.  She  is  about  the  same,"  said  Miss 
Polly. 

"  And  that  is  —  won't  you  tell  me  how  she  is  ?  " 
His  voice  was  not  quite  steady  this  time. 

A  quick  spasm  of  pain  crossed  the  woman's  face* 

"  I  can't,   I  wish  I  could !  " 


John  Pendleton  245 

i 

"  You  mean  —  you  don't  know  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"But  — the  doctor?" 

"Dr.  Warren  himself  seems  —  at  sea.  He  is 
in  correspondence  now  with  a  New  York  spe- 
cialist. They  have  arranged  for  a  consultation  — 
at  once." 

"  But  —  but  what  were  her  injuries  that  you  do 
know?" 

"  A  slight  cut  on  the  head,  one  or  two  bruises, 
and  —  and  an  iniury  to  the  spine  which  has  seemed 
to  cw^e  —  paralysis  fr^m  the  hips  down." 

A  low  cry  came  from  the  man.  There  was  a 
brief  silence ;  then,  huskily,  he  asked : 

"  And  Pollyanna  —  how  does  she  —  take  it  ?  " 

"She  doesn't  understand  —  at  all  —  how  things 
really  are.     And  I  can't  tell  her." 

"  But  she  must  know —  something!  " 

Miss  Polly  lifted  her  hand  to  the  collar  at  her 
throat  in  the  gesture  that  had  become  so  common 
to  her  of  late. 

"Oh,  yes.  She  knows  she  can't  —  move;  but 
she  thinks  her  legs  are  —  broken.  She  says  she's 
glad  it's  broken  legs  like  yours  rather  than  'life- 
long-invalids' like  Mrs.  Snow's;  because  broker, 
Vegs  gret  well,  and  the  other  —  doesn't     She  talks 


246  Pollyanna 

■■■i--" 

like  that  all  the  time,  until  it  —  it  seems  as  if  I 
should  — die!" 

Through  the  blur  of  tears  in  his  own  eyes,  the 
man  saw  the  drawn  face  opposite,  twisted  with 
emotion.  Involuntarily  his  thoughts  went  back  to 
what  Pollyanna  had  said  when  he  had  made  his 
final  plea  for  her  presence :  "  Oh,  I  couldn't  leave 
Aunt  Polly  —  now !  " 

It  was  this  thought  that  made  him  ask  very 
gently,  as  soon  as  he  could  control  his  voice: 

"  I  wonder  if  you  know,  Miss  Harrington,  how 
hard  I  tried  to  get  Pollyanna  to  come  and  live  with 
me." 

"  With  you!  —  Pollyanna !  " 

The  man  winced  a  little  at  the  tone  of  her  voice; 
but  his  own  voice  was  still  impersonally  cool  when 
he  spoke  again. 

'  Yes,  I  wanted  to  adopt  her  - —  legally,  you 
understand;    making  her  my  heir,  of  course." 

The  woman  in  the  opposite  chair  relaxed  a  little. 
It  came  to  her,  suddenly,  what  a  brilliant  future  it 
would  have  meant  for  Pollyanna  —  this  adoption ; 
and  she  wondered  if  Pollyanna  were  old  enough  — 
and  mercenary  enough  — ■  to  be  tempted  by  this 
man's  money  and  position. 

if  I  am  very  fond  of  Pollyanna/9  du 


John  Pendleton  247 

continuing.  "  I  am  fond  of  her  both  for  her  own 
sake,  and  for  —  her  mother's.  I  stood  ready  to 
give  Pollyanna  the  love  that  had  been  twenty-five 
years  in  storage." 

"  Love."  Miss  Polly  remembered  suddenly  why 
she  had  taken  this  child  in  the  first  place  —  and  with 
the  recollection  came  the  remembrance  of  Polly- 
anna's  own  words  uttered  that  very  morning :  "  I 
love  to  be  called  '  dear  '  by  folks  that  belong  to 
you !  "  And  it  was  this  love-hungry  little  girl  that 
had  been  offered  the  stored-up  affection  of  twenty- 
five  years  :  —  and  she  was  old  enough  to  be  tempted 
by  love !  With  a  sinking  heart  Miss  Polly  realized 
that.  With  a  sinking  heart,  too,  she  realized  some- 
thing else :  the  dreariness  of  her  own  future  now  — 
without  Pollyanna. 

"Well?"  she  said.  And  the  man,  recognizing 
the  self-control  that  vibrated  through  the  harshness 
of  the  tone,  smiled  sadly. 

"  She  would  not  come,"  he  answered. 

"Why?" 

"  She  would  not  leave  you.  She  said  you  had 
been  so  good  to  her.  She  wanted  to  stay  with  you 
—  and  she  said  she  thought  you  wanted  her  to 
stay,"  he  finished,  as  he  pulled  himself  to  his  feet. 

He  did  not  look  toward  Miss  Polly.     He  turned 


248  Pollyanna 

his  face  resolutely  toward  the  door,  but  instantly 
he  heard  a  swift  step  at  his  side,  and  found  2, 
shaking  hand  thrust  toward  him. 

"  When  the  specialist  comes,  and  I  know  any- 
thing —  definite  about  Pollyanna,  I  will  let  you 
hear  from  me,"  said  a  trembling  voice.  "  Good-by 
—  and  thank  you  for  coming.  Pollyanna  will  be  —  -■ 
pleased." 


CHAPTER    XXV 


A    WAITING    GAME 


On  the  day  after  John  Pendleton's  call  at  the 
Harrington  homestead,  Miss  Polly  set  herself  to 
the  task  of  preparing  Pollyanna  for  the  visit  of  the 
specialist. 

"  Pollyanna,  my  dear,"  she  began  gently,  "  we 
have  decided  that  we  want  another  doctor  besides 
Dr.  Warren  to  see  you.  Another  one  might  tell  us 
something  new  to  do  —  to  help  you  get  well  faster, 
you  know." 

A  joyous  light  came  to  Pollyanna's  face. 

"Dr.  Chilton!  Oh,  Aunt  Polly,  I'd  so  love  to 
have  Dr.  Chilton !  I've  wanted  him  all  the  time, 
but  I  was  afraid  you  didn't,  on  account  of  his  see- 
ing you  in  the  sun  parlor  that  day,  you  know;  so 
I  didn't  like  to  say  anything.  But  I'm  so  glad  you 
do  want  him  !  " 

Aunt  Polly's  face  had  turned  white,  then  red, 
then  back  to  white  again.    But  when  she  answered, 

249 


250  Poliyanna 

she  showed  very  plainly  that  she  was  trying  to 
speak  lightly  and  cheerfully. 

"  Oh,  no,  dear !  It  wasn't  Dr.  Chilton  at  all  that 
I  meant.  It  is  a  new  doctor  —  a  very  famous  doc- 
tor from  New  York,  who  —  who  knows  a  great 
deal  about  —  about  hurts  like  yours." 

Pollyanna's  face  fell. 

"  I  don't  believe  he  knows  half  so  much  as  Di\ 
Chilton." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  does,  I'm  sure,  dear." 

"  But  it  was  Dr.  Chilton  who  doctored  Mr.  Pen- 
dleton's broken  leg,  Aunt  Polly.  If  —  if  you  don't 
mind  very  much,  I  would  like  to  have  Dr.  Chilton 
—  truly  I  would !  " 

A  distressed  color  suffused  Miss  Polly's  face. 
For  a  moment  she  did  not  speak  at  all ;  then  she 
said  gently  —  though  yet  with  a  touch  of  her  old 
stern  decisiveness : 

"  But  I  do  mind,  Poliyanna.  I  mind  very  much. 
I  would  do  anything  ■ —  almost  anything  for  you, 
my  dear;  but  I  —  for  reasons  which  I  do  not  care 
to  speak  of  now,  I  don't  wish  Dr.  Chilton  called 
in  on  —  on  this  case.  And  believe  me,  he  can  not 
know  so  much  about  —  about  your  trouble,  as  this 
great  doctor  does,  who  will  come  from  New  York 
to-morrow." 


A  Waiting  Game  251 

Pollyanna  still  looked  unconvinced. 

"  But,  Aunt  Polly,  if  you  loved  Dr.  Chilton  —  " 

"What,  Pollyanna?"  Aunt  Polly's  voice  was 
very  sharp  now.     Her  cheeks  were  very  red,  too. 

"  I  say,  if  you  loved  Dr.  Chilton,  and  didn't  love 
the  other  one,"  sighed  Pollyanna,  "  seems  to  me 
that  would  make  some  difference  in  the  good  he 
would  do;    and  I  love  Dr.  Chilton." 

The  nurse  entered  the  room  at  that  moment,  and 
Aunt  Polly  rose  to  her  feet  abruptly,  a  look  of  relief 
on  her  face. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  Pollyanna,"  she  said,  a  little 
stiffly;  "but  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  let  me  be 
the  judge,  this  time.  Besides,  it's  already  ar- 
ranged. The  New  York  doctor  is  coming  to- 
morrow." 

As  it  happened,  however,  the  New  York  doctor 
did  not  come  "  to-morrow."  At  the  last  moment 
a  telegram  told  of  an  unavoidable  delay  owing  to 
the  sudden  illness  of  the  specialist  himself.  This 
led  Pollyanna  into  a  renewed  pleading  for  the  sub- 
stitution of  Dr.  Chilton  —  "  which  would  be  so  easy 
now,  you  know." 

But  as  before,  Aunt  Polly  shook  her  head  and 
said  "  no,  dear,"  very  decisively,  yet  with  a  still 
more  anxious  assurance  that  she  would  do  anything 


£52  Pollyanna 

— i 

—  anything  but  that  —  to  please  her  dear  Polly- 
anna. 

As  the  days  of  waiting  passed,  one  by  one,  it  did 
indeed,  seem  that  Aunt  Polly  was  doing  everything 
(but  that)  that  she  could  do  to  please  her  niece. 

"  I  wouldn't  'a'  believed  it  —  you  couldn't  'a' 
made  me  believe  it,"  Nancy  said  to  Old  Tom  one 
morning.  "  There  don't  seem  ter  be  a  minute  in 
the  day  that  Miss  Polly  ain't  jest  hangin'  'round 
waitin'  ter  do  somethin'  for  that  blessed  lamb,  if 
'tain't  more  than  ter  let  in  the  cat  —  an'  her  what 
wouldn't  let  Fluff  nor  Buff  up-stairs  for  love  nor 
money  a  week  ago ;  an'  now  she  lets  'em  tumble 
all  over  the  bed  jest  'cause  it  pleases  Miss  Polly- 
anna! 

"  An'  when  she  ain't  doin'  nothin'  else,  she's 
movin'  them  little  glass  danglers  'round  ter  diff'- 
rent  winders  in  the  room  so  the  sun'll  make  the 
'  rainbows  dance,'  as  that  blessed  child  calls  it. 
She's  sent  Timothy  down  ter  Cobb's  greenhouse 
three  times  for  fresh  flowers  —  an'  that  besides  all 
the  posies  fetched  in  ter  her,  too.  An'  the  other 
day,  if  I  didn't  find  her  sittin'  'fore  the  bed  with 
the  nurse  actually  doin'  her  hair,  an'  Miss  Polly- 
anna lookin'  on  an'  bossin'  from  the  bed,  her  eyes 
all  shinin'  an'  happy.    An'  I  declare  ter  goodness,  if 


A  Waiting  Game  253 

Miss  Polly  hain't  wore  her  hair  like  that  every  day 
now  —  jest  ter  please  that  blessed  child!" 

Old  Tom  chuckled. 

"  Well,  it  strikes  me  Miss  Polly  herself  ain't 
lookin'  none  the  worse  —  for  wearin'  them  'ere 
curls  'round  her   forehead,"  he  observed  dryly. 

"  'Course  she  ain't,"  retorted  Nancy,  indignantly. 
"  She  looks  like  folks,  now.  She's  actually  al- 
most —  " 

"  Keerful,  now,  Nancy!"  interrupted  the  old 
man,  with  a  slow  grin.  "  You  know  what  you  said 
when  I  told  ye  she  was  handsome  once." 

Nancy  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"Oh,  she  ain't  handsome,  of  course;  but  I  will 
own  up  she  don't  look  like  the  same  woman,  what 
with  the  ribbons  an'  lace  jiggers  Miss  Pollyanna 
makes  her  wear  'round  her  neck." 

"  I  told  ye  so,"  nodded  the  man.  "  I  told  ye  she 
wa'n't  —  old." 

Nancy  laughed. 

"  Well,  I'll  own  up  she  hain't  got  quite  so  good 
an  imitation  of  it  —  as  she  did  have,  'fore  Miss 
Pollyanna  come.  Say,  Mr.  Tom,  who  was  her 
lover?  I  hain't  found  that  out,  yet;  I  hain't,  I 
hain't!" 

"  Hain't  ye  ?  "  asked  the  old  man,  with  an  odd 


254  Pollyanna 

look  on  his  face.  "  Well,  I  guess  ye  won't  then  — 
from  me." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Tom,  come  on,  now,"  wheedled  the 
girl.  "  Ye  see,  there  ain't  many  folks  here  that  I 
can  ask." 

"  Maybe  not.  But  there's  one,  anyhow,  that 
ain't  answerin',"  grinned  Old  Tom.  Then,  ab- 
ruptly, the  light  died  from  his  eyes.  "  How  is  she, 
ter-day  —  the  little  gal  ?  " 

Nancy  shook  her  head.  Her  face,  too,  had  so- 
bered. 

"  Just  the  same,  Mr.  Tom.  There  ain't  no  special 
diff'rence,  as  I  can  see  —  or  anybody,  I  guess.  She 
jest  lays  there  an'  sleeps  an'  talks  some,  an'  tries 
ter  smile  an'  be  '  glad  '  'cause  the  sun  sets  or  the 
moon  rises,  or  some  other  such  thing,  till  it's  enough 
ter  make  yer  heart  break  with  achin'." 

"  I  know ;  it's  the  '  game  '  —  bless  her  sweeS 
heart!  "  nodded  Old  Tom,  blinking  a  little. 

"  She  told  yon,  then,  too,  about  that  'ere  — 
game?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  She  told  me  long  ago."  The  old  man 
hesitated,  then  went  on,  his  lips  twitching  a  little. 
"  I  was  growlin'  one  day  'cause  I  was  so  bent  up 
and  crooked;  an'  what  do  ye  s'pose  the  little  thing 
said?" 


A  Waiting  Game  255 

"  I  couldn't  guess.  I  wouldn't  think  she  could 
find  anythin'  about  that  ter  be  glad  about !  " 

"  She  did.  She  said  I  could  be  glad,  anyhow, 
that  I  didn't  have  ter  stoop  so  far  ter  do  my  weedin' 

—  'cause  I  was  already  bent  part  way  over." 
Nancy  gave  a  wistful  laugh. 

"  Well,  I  ain't  surprised,  after  all.  You  might 
know  she'd  find  somethin'.     We've  been  playin'  it 

—  that  game  —  since  almost  the  first,  'cause  there 
wa'n't  no  one  else  she  could  play  it  with  —  though 
she  did  speak  of  —  her  aunt." 

"Miss  Polly!" 

Nancy  chuckled. 

"  I  guess  you  hain't  got  such  an  awful  different 
opinion  o'  the  mistress  than  I  have,"  she  bridled. 

Old  Tom  stiffened. 

"  1  was  only  thinkin'  'twould  be  —  some  of  a  sur- 
prise -    to  her,"  he  explained  with  dignity. 

"  Well,  yes,  I  guess  'twould  be  —  then,"  retorted 
Nancy.  "  I  ain't  sayin'  what  'twould  be  now.  I'd 
believe  anythin'  o'  the  mistress  now  —  even  that 
she'd  take  ter  playin'  it  herself!  " 

"  But  hain't  the  little  gal  told  her  —  ever?  She's 
told  ev'ry  one  else,  I  guess.  I'm  hearin'  of  it  ev'ry- 
where,  now,  since  she  was  hurted,"  said  Tom. 

"Well,    she    didn't   tell    Miss    Polly,"    rejoined 


<z56  Pollyanna 

Nancy.  "  Miss  Pollyanna  told  me  long  ago  that 
she  couldn't  tell  her,  'cause  her  aunt  didn't  like  ter 
have  her  talk  about  her  father;  an*  'twas  her 
father's  game,  an'  she'd  have  ter  talk  about  him  if 
she  did  tell  it.     So  she  never  told  her." 

"  Oh,  I  see,  I  see."  The  old  man  nodded  his 
head  slowly.  "  They  was  always  bitter  against  the 
minister  chap  —  all  of  'em,  'cause  he  took  Miss 
Jennie  away  from  'em.  An'  Miss  Polly  —  young 
as  she  was  —  couldn't  never  forgive  him;  she  was 
that  fond  of  Miss  Jennie  —  in  them  days.  I  see,  I 
see.  'Twas  a  bad  mess,"  he  sighed,  as  he  turned 
away. 

"  Yes,  'twas  —  all  'round,  all  'round,"  sighed 
Nancy  in  her  turn,  as  she  went  back  to  her  kitchen. 

For  no  one  were  those  days  of  waiting  easy.  The 
nurse  tried  to  look  cheerful,  but  her  eyes  were 
troubled.  The  doctor  was  openly  nervous  anc  impa- 
tient. Miss  Polly  said  little ;  but  even  the  softening 
waves  of  hair  about  her  face,  and  the  becoming  laces 
at  her  throat,  could  not  hide  the  fact  that  she  was 
growing  thin  and  pale.  As  to  Pollyanna  —  Polly- 
anna petted  the  dog,  smoothed  the  cat's  sleek  head, 
admired  the  flowers  and  ate  the  fruits  and  jellies 
that  were  sent  in  to  her ;  and  returned  innumerable 
cheery  answers  to  the  many  messages  of  love  and 


A  Waiting  Game  257 

inquiry  that  were  brought  to  her  bedside.  But  she, 
too,  grew  pale  and  thin;  and  the  nervous  activity 
of  the  poor  little  hands  and  arms  only  emphasized 
the  pitiful  motionlessness  of  the  once  active  little 
feet  and  legs  now  lying  so  woefully  quiet  under  the 
blankets. 

As  to  the  game  —  Pollyanna  told  Nancy  these 
days  how  glad  she  was  going  to  be  when  she  could 
go  to  school  again,  go  to  see  Mrs.  Snow,  go  to  call 
on  Mr.  Pendleton,  and  go  to  ride  with  Dr.  Chilton ; 
nor  did  she  seem  to  realize  that  all  this  "  gladness  " 
was  in  the  future,  not  the  present.  Nancy,  however, 
did  realize  it  —  and  cry  about  it,  when  she  was 
alone. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

A   DOOR   AJAR 

Just  a  week  from  the  time  Dr.  Mead,  the  special- 
ist, was  first  expected,  he  came.  He  was  a  tall, 
broad-shouldered  man  with  kind  gray  eyes,  and  a 
cheerful  smile.  Pollyanna  liked  him  at  once,  and 
told  him  so. 

"  You  look  quite  a  lot  like  my  doctor,  you  see," 
she  added  engagingly. 

"  Your  doctor  ?  "  Dr.  Mead  glanced  in  evident 
surprise  at  Dr.  Warren,  talking  with  the  nurse  a 
few  feet  away.  Dr.  Warren  was  a  small,  brown- 
eyed  man  with  a  pointed  brown  beard. 

"  Oh,  that  isn't  my  doctor,"  smiled  Pollyanna, 
divining  his  thought.  "  Dr.  Warren  is  Aunt  Polly's 
doctor.     My  doctor  is  Dr.  Chilton." 

"  Oh-h!  "  said  Dr.  Mead,  a  little  oddly,  his  eyes 
resting  on  Miss  Polly,  who,  with  a  vivid  blush,  had 
turned  hastily  away. 

"  Yes."  Pollyanna  hesitated,  then  continued 
with  her  usual  truthfulness.  "  You  see,  /  wanted 
Dr.  Chilton  all  the  time,  but  Aunt  Polly  wanted 

258 


A  Door  Ajar  259 

* 

you.  She  said  you  knew  more  than  Dr.  Chilton, 
anyway  about  —  about  broken  legs  like  mine.  And 
of  course  if  you  do,  I  can  be  glad  for  that.  Do 
you?" 

A  swift  something  crossed  the  doctor's  face  that 
Pollyanna  could  not  quite  translate. 

"  Only  time  can  tell  that,  little  girl,"  he  said 
gently;  then  he  turned  a  grave  face  toward  Dr. 
Warren,  who  had  just  come  to  the  bedside. 

Every  one  said  afterward  that  it  was  the  cat  that 
did  it.  Certainly,  if  Fluffy  had  not  poked  an  in- 
sistent paw  and  nose  against  Pollyanna's  unlatched 
door,  the  door  would  not  have  swung  noiselessly 
open  on  its  hinges  until  it  stood  perhaps  a  foot  ajar; 
and  if  the  door  had  not  been  open,  Pollyanna  would 
not  have  heard  her  aunt's  words. 

In  the  hall  the  two  doctors,  the  nurse,  and  Miss 
Polly  stood  talking.  In  Pollyanna's  room  Fluffy 
had  just  jumped  to  the  bed  with  a  little  purring 
"  meow "  of  joy  when  through  the  open  door 
sounded  clearly  and  sharply  Aunt  Polly's  agonized 
exclamation. 

"  Not  that!  Doctor,  not  that!  You  don't  mean 
—  the  child  —  will  never  walk  again !  " 

It  was  all  confusion  then.     First,  from  the  bed- 


260  Folly  anna 


room  came  Pollyanna's  terrified  "  Aunt  Polly  — 
Aunt  Polly !  "  Then  Miss  Polly,  seeing  the  open 
door  and  realizing  that  her  words  had  been  heard, 
gave  a  low  little  moan  and  —  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life  —  fainted  dead  away. 

The  nurse,  with  a  choking  "  She  heard !  "  stum- 
bled toward  the  open  door.  The  two  doctors  stayed 
with  Miss  Polly.  Dr.  Mead  had  to  stay  —  he  had 
caught  Miss  Polly  as  she  fell.  Dr.  Warren  stood 
by,  helplessly.  It  was  not  until  Pollyanna  cried  out 
again  sharply  and  the  nurse  closed  the  door,  that 
the  two  men,  with  a  despairing  glance  into  each 
other's  eyes,  awoke  to  the  immediate  duty  of  bring- 
ing the  woman  in  Dr.  Mead's  arms  back  to  unhappy 
consciousness. 

In  Pollyanna's  room,  the  nurse  had  found  a  purr= 
ing  gray  cat  on  the  bed  vainly  trying  to  attract  the 
attention  of  a  white-faced,  wild-eyed  little  girl. 

"  Miss  Hunt,  please,  I  want  Aunt  Polly.  I  want 
her  right  away,  quick,  please !  " 

The  nurse  closed  the  door  and  came  forward  hur- 
riedly.   Her  face  was  very  pale. 

"She  —  she  can't  come  just  this  minute,  dear, 
She  will  —  a  little  later.  What  is  it  ?  Can't  I  — 
get  it  ?  " 

Pollyanna  shook  her  head. 


A  Door  Ajar  261 

"  But  I  want  to  know  what  she  said  —  just  now. 
Did  you  hear  her  ?  I  want  Aunt  Polly  —  she  said 
something.  I  want  her  to  tell  me  'tisn't  true  — ■ 
?tisn't  true!  " 

The  nurse  tried  to  speak,  but  no  words  came. 
Something  in  her  face  sent  an  added  terror  to  Polly- 
anna's  eyes. 

"  Miss  Hunt,  you  did  hear  her !  It  is  true !  Oh, 
It  isn't  true!  You  don't  mean  I  can't  ever  —  walk 
again?  " 

"There,  there,  dear  —  don't,  don't!"  choked 
the  nurse.  "  Perhaps  he  didn't  know.  Perhaps  he 
was  mistaken.  There's  lots  of  things  that  could 
happen,  you  know." 

"  But  Aunt  Polly  said  he  did  know !  She  said 
lie  knew  more  than  anybody  else  about  —  about 
broken  legs  like  mine !  " 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know,  dear;  but  all  doctors  make 
mistakes  sometimes.  Just  —  just  don't  think  any 
more  about  it  now  —  please  don't,  dear." 

Pollyanna  flung  out  her  arms  wildly. 

"  But  I  can't  help  thinking  about  it,"  she  sobbed. 
■"  It's  all  there  is  now  to  think  about.  Why,  Miss 
Hunt,  how  am  I  going  to  school,  or  to  see  Mr. 
Pendleton,  or  Mrs.  Snow,  or  —  or  anybody?" 
She  caught  her  breath  and   sobbed   wildly  for  a 


262  Pollyanna 


moment.  Suddenly  she  stopped  and  looked  up,  a 
new  terror  in  her  eyes.  "  Why,  Miss  Hunt,  if  I 
can't  walk,  how  am  I  ever  going  to  be  glad  for  — > 
anything?  " 

Miss  Hunt  did  not  know  "  the  game ;  "  but  she 
did  know  that  her  patient  must  be  quieted,  and  that 
at  once.  In  spite  of  her  own  perturbation  and 
heartache,  her  hands  had  not  been  idle,  and  she 
stood  now  at  the  bedside  with  the  quieting  powder 
ready. 

"  There,  there,  dear,  just  take  this,"  she  soothed ; 
"  and  by  and  by  we'll  be  more  rested,  and  we'll  see 
what  can  be  done  then.  Things  aren't  half  as  bad 
as  they  seem,  dear,  lots  of  times,  you  know." 

Obediently  Pollyanna  took  the  medicine,  and 
sipped  the  water  from  the  glass  in  Miss  Hunt's 
hand. 

"I  know;  that  sounds  like  things  father  used 
to  say,"  faltered  Pollyanna,  blinking  off  the  tears. 
"  He  said  there  was  always  something  about  every- 
thing that  might  be  worse;  but  I  reckon  he'd  never 
just  heard  he  couldn't  ever  walk  again.  I  don't 
see  how  there  can  be  anything  about  that,  that  could 
be  worse  —  do  you  ?  " 

Miss  Hunt  did  not  reply.  She  could  not  trust 
herself  to  speak  just  then. 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

TWO    VISITS 

It  was  Nancy  who  was  sent  to  tell  Mr.  John 
Pendleton  of  Dr.  Mead's  verdict.  Miss  Polly  had 
remembered  her  promise  to  let  him  have  direct 
information  from  the  house.  To  go  herself,  or  to 
write  a  letter,  she  felt  to  be  almost  equally  out  of 
the  question.  It  occurred  to  her  then  to  send 
Nancy. 

There  had  been  a  time  when  Nancy  would  have 
rejoiced  greatly  at  this  extraordinary  opportunity 
to  see  something  of  the  House  of  Mystery  and  its 
master.  But  to-day  her  heart  was  too  heavy  to 
rejoice  at  anything.  She  scarcely  even  looked  about 
her  at  all,  indeed,  during  the  few  minutes  she  waited 
for  Mr.  John  Pendleton  to  appear. 

"  I'm  Nancy,  sir,"  she  said  respectfully,  in  re- 
sponse to  the  surprised  questioning  of  his  eyes, 
when  he  came  into  the  room.  "  Miss  Harrington 
sent  me  to  tell  you  about  —  Miss  Pollyanna." 

"Well?" 

263 


264  Pollyanna 

In  spite  of  the  curt  terseness  of  the  word,  Nancy 
quite  understood  the  anxiety  that  lay  behind  that 
short  "  well  ?  " 

"  It  ain't  well,  Mr.  Pendleton,"  she  choked. 

"  You  don't  mean  — "  He  paused,  and  she 
bowed  her  head  miserably. 

"  Yes,  sir.  He  says  —  she  can't  walk  again  — 
never." 

For  a  moment  there  was  absolute  silence  in  the 
room;  then  the  man  spoke,  in  a  voice  shaken  with 
emotion. 

"  Poor  —  little  —  girl !    Poor  —  little  —  girl !  " 

Nancy  glanced  at  him,  but  dropped  her  eyes  at 
once.  She  had  not  supposed  that  sour,  cross,  stern 
John  Pendleton  could  look  like  that.  In  a  moment 
he  spoke  again,  still  in  the  low,  unsteady  voice. 

"  It  seems  cruel  —  never  to  dance  in  the  sunshine 
again!     My  little  prism  girl!  " 

There  was  another  silence;  then,  abruptly,  the 
man  asked : 

"She  herself  doesn't  know  yet  —  of  course  — 
does  she?  " 

"But  she  does,  sir."  sobbed  Nancy:  "an'  that's 
wnat  makes  if  all  the  harder.  She  found  out  — 
drat  that  cat!  I  begs  yer  pardon,"  apologized  the 
girl,  hurriedly.    "  It's  only  that  the  cat  pushed  open 


Two  Visits  266 


the  door  an'  Miss  Pollyanna  overheard  'em  talkin'. 
She  found  out  —  that  way." 

"  Poor  —  little  —  girl !  "  sighed  the  man  again. 

"  Yes,  sir.  You'd  say  so,  sir,  if  you  could  see 
her,"  choked  Nancy.  "  I  hain't  seen  her  but  twice 
since  she  knew  about  it,  an'  it  done  me  up  both 
times.  Ye  see  it's  all  so  fresh  an'  new  to  her,  an' 
she  keeps  thmkin'  all  the  time  of  new  things  she 
can't  do  —  ,ow.  It  worries  her,  too,  'cause  she 
can't  seem  ter  be  glad  —  maybe  you  don't  know 
about  her  game,  though,"  broke  off  Nancy,  apolo- 
getically. 

"The  'glad  game'?"  asked  the  man.  "Oh, 
yes ;   she  told  me  of  that." 

"  Oh,  she  did !  Well,  I  guess  she  has  told  it 
generally  ter  most  folks.  But  ye  see,  now  she  — 
she  can't  play  it  herself,  an'  it  worries  her.  She 
says  she  can't  think  of  a  thing  —  not  a  thing  about 
this  not  walkin'  again,  ter  be  glad  about." 

"  Well,  why  should  she  ? "  retorted  the  man, 
almost  savagely. 

Nancy  shifted  her  feet  uneasily. 

"  That's  the  way  I  felt,  too  —  till  I  happened 
ter  think  —  it  would  be  easier  if  she  could  find 
somethin',  ye  know.  So  I  tried  to  —  to  remind 
her." 


266  Follyanna 

"  To  remind  her!  Of  what?  "  John  Pendleton's 
voice  was  still  angrily  impatient. 

"  Of  —  of  how  she  told  others  ter  play  it  — 
Mis'  Snow,  and  the  rest,  ye  know  —  and  what  she 
said  for  them  ter  do.  But  the  poor  little  lamb  just 
cries,  an'  says  it  don't  seem  the  same,  somehow. 
She  says  it's  easy  ter  tell  lifelong  invalids  how  ter 
be  glad,  but  'tain't  the  same  thing  when  you\e  the 
lifelong  invalid  yerself,  an'  have  ter  try  ter  do  it. 
She  says  she's  told  herself  over  an'  over  again  how 
glad  she  is  that  other  folks  ain't  like  her;  but  that 
all  the  time  she's  sayin'  it,  she  ain't  really  thinkin' 
of  any  thin'  only  how  she  can't  ever  walk  again." 

Nancy  paused,  but  the  man  did  not  speak.  He 
sat  with  his  hand  over  his  eyes. 

"  Then  I  tried  ter  remind  her  how  she  used  ter 
say  the  game  was  all  the  nicer  ter  play  when  — 
when  it  was  hard,"  resumed  Nancy,  in  a  dull  voice. 
"  But  she  says  that,  too,  is  diff'rent  —  when  it  really 
is  hard.  An'  I  must  be  goin',  now,  sir,"  she  broke 
off  abruptly. 

At  the  door  she  hesitated,  turned,  and  asked  tim- 
idly: 

"  I  couldn't  be  tellin'  Miss  Pollyanna  that  — 
that  you'd  seen  Jimmy  Bean  again,  I  s'pose,  sir? 
could  I?" 


Two  Visits  267 


"  I  don't  see  how  you  could  —  as  I  haven't  seen 
him,"  observed  the  man  a  little  shortly.     "  Why?  " 

"  Nothin',  sir,  only  —  well,  ye  see,  that's  one  of 
the  things  that  she  was  feelin'  bad  about,  that  she 
couldn't  take  him  ter  see  you,  now.  She  said  she'd 
taken  him  once,  but  she  didn't  think  he  showed 
off  very  well  that  day,  and  that  she  was  afraid  you 
didn't  think  he  would  make  a  /ery  nice  child's  pres- 
ence, after  all.  Maybe  you  know  what  she  means 
by  that;   but  I  didn't,  sir." 

"  Yes,  I  know  —  what  she  means." 

"  All  right,  sir.  It  was  only  that  she  was  wantin* 
ter  take  him  again,  she  said,  so's  ter  show  ye  he 
really  was  a  lovely  child's  presence.  And  now  she 
—  can't !  —  drat  that  autymobile !  I  begs  yer  par- 
don, sir.  Good-by !  "  And  Nancy  fled  precipi- 
tately. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  the  entire  town  of  Bel- 
dingsville  to  learn  that  the  great  New  York  doctor 
had  said  Pollyanna  Whittier  would  never  walk 
again ;  and  certainly  never  before  had  the  town 
been  so  stirred.  Everybody  knew  by  sight  now  the 
piquant  little  freckled  face  that  had  always  a  smile 
of  greeting;  and  almost  everybody  knew  of  the 
"  game  "  that  Pollyanna  was  playing.     To  think 


268  Pollyanna 

that  now  never  again  would  that  smiling  face  be 
seen  on  their  streets  —  never  again  would  that 
cheery  little  voice  proclaim  the  gladness  of  some 
everyday  experience!  It  seemed  unbelievable,  im- 
possible, cruel. 

In  kitchens  and  sitting  rooms,  and  over  back-yard 
fences  women  talked  of  it,  and  wept  openly.  On 
street  corners  and  in  store  lounging-places  the  men 
talked,  too,  and  wept  —  though  not  so  openly.  And 
neither  the  talking  nor  the  weeping  grew  less  when 
fast  on  the  heels  of  the  news  itself,  came  Nancy's 
pitiful  story  that  Pollyanna,  face  to  face  with  what 
had  come  to  her,  was  bemoaning  most  of  all  the  fact 
that  she  could  not  play  the  game;  that  she  could 
not  now  be  glad  over  —  anything. 

It  was  then  that  the  same  thought  must  have, 
in  some  way,  come  to  Pollyanna's  friends.  At  all 
events,  almost  at  once,  the  mistress  of  the  Harring- 
ton homestead,  greatly  to  her  surprise,  began  to 
receive  calls :  calls  from  people  she  knew,  and  peo- 
ple she  did  not  know ;  calls  from  men,  women,  and 
children  —  many  of  whom  Miss  Polly  had  not  sup- 
posed that  her  niece  knew  at  all. 

Some  came  in  and  sat  down  for  a  stiff  five  or  ten 
minutes.  Some  stood  awkwardly  on  the  porch 
steps,  fumbling  with  hats  or  hand-bags,  according 


Two  Visits  269 


to  their  sex.  Some  brought  a  book,  a  bunch  of 
flowers,  or  a  dainty  to  tempt  the  palate.  Some 
cried  frankly.  Some  turned  their  backs  and  blew 
their  noses  furiously.  But  all  inquired  very  anx- 
iously for  the  little  injured  girl;  and  all  sent  to 
her  some  message  —  and  it  was  these  messages 
which,  after  a  time,  stirred  Miss  Polly  to  action. 

First  came  Mr.  John  Pendleton.  He  came  with- 
out his  crutches  to-day. 

"  I  don't  need  to  tell  you  how  shocked  I  am,"  he 
began  almost  harshly.  "  But  can  —  nothing  be 
done?" 

Miss  Polly  gave  a  gesture  of  despair. 

"  Oh,  we're  '  doing,'  of  course,  all  the  time.  Dr. 
Mead  prescribed  certain  treatments  and  medicines 
that  might  help,  and  Dr.  Warren  is  carrying  them 
out  to  the  letter,  of  course.  But  —  Dr.  Mead  held 
out  almost  no  hope." 

John  Pendleton  rose  abruptly  —  though  he  had 
but  just  come.  His  face  was  white,  and  his  mouth 
was  set  into  stern  lines.  Miss  Polly,  looking  at 
him,  knew  very  well  why  he  felt  that  he  could  not 
stay  longer  in  her  presence.    At  the  door  he  turned. 

"  I  have  a  message  for  Pollyanna,"  he  said. 
"  Will  you  tell  her,  please,  that  I  have  seen  Jimmy 
Bean  and — that  he's  going  to  be  my  bov  hereafter. 


270  Pollyanna 

_ — i 

Tell  her  I  thought  she  would  be  —  glad  to  know. 
I  shall  adopt  him,  probably." 

For  a  brief  moment  Miss  Polly  lost  her  usual 
well-bred  self-control. 

"  You  will  adopt  Jimmy  Bean !  "  she  gasped. 

The  man  lifted  his  chin  a  little. 

"  Yes.  I  think  Pollyanna  will  understand.  You 
vill  tell  her  I  thought  she  would  be  —  glad?  " 

rS  Why,  of  —  of  course,"  faltered  Miss  Polly. 

"  Thank  you,"  bowed  John  Pendleton,  as  he 
turned  to  go. 

In  the  middle  of  the  floor  Miss  Polly  stood,  si- 
lent and  amazed,  still  looking  after  the  man  who 
had  just  left  her.  Even  yet  she  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve what  her  ears  had  heard.  John  Pendleton 
adopt  Jimmy  Bean?  John  Pendleton,  wealthy,  in- 
dependent, morose,  reputed  to  be  miserly  and  su- 
premely selfish,  to  adopt  a  little  boy  —  and  such  a 
little  boy? 

With  a  somewhat  dazed  face  Miss  Polly  went 
up-stairs  to  Pollyanna's  room. 

"  Pollyanna,  I  have  a  message  for  you  from  Mr. 
John  Pendleton.  He  has  just  been  here.  He  says 
to  teil  you  he  has  taken  Jimmy  Bean  for  his  little 
boy.  He  said  he  thought  you'd  be  glad  to  know 
it" 


Two  Visits  271 

Pollyanna's  wistful  little  face  flamed  into  sudden 
joy. 

"Glad?  Glad?  Well,  I  reckon  I  am  glad !  Oh, 
Aunt  Polly,  I've  so  wanted  to  find  a  place  for  Jimmy 
—  and  that's  such  a  lovely  place!  Besides,  I'm  so 
glad  for  Mr.  Pendleton,  too.  You  see,  now  he'll 
have  the  child's  presence," 

"The  — what?" 

Pollyanna  colored  painfully.  She  had  forgotten 
that  she  had  never  told  her  aunt  of  Mr.  Pendleton's 
desire  to  adopt  her  —  and  certainly  she  would  not 
wish  to  tell  her  now  that  she  had  ever  thought  for 
a  minute  of  leaving  her  —  this  dear  Aunt  Polly ! 

"  The  child's  presence,"  stammered  Pollyanna, 
hastily.  "  Mr.  Pendleton  told  me  once,  you  see, 
that  only  a  woman's  hand  and  heart  or  a  child's 
presence  could  make  a  —  a  home.  And  now  he's 
got  it  —  the  child's  presence." 

"  Oh,  I  —  see,"  said  Miss  Polly  very  gently;  and 
she  did  see  —  more  than  Pollyanna  realized.  She 
saw  something  of  the  pressure  that  was  probably 
brought  to  bear  on  Pollyanna  herself  at  the  time 
John  Pendleton  was  asking  her  to  be  the  "  child's 
presence,"  which  was  to  transform  his  great  pile 
of  gray  stone  into  a  home.  "  I  see,"  she  finished, 
her  eyes  stinging  with  sudden  tears- 


272  Foiiyanna 

Pollyanna,  fearful  that  her  aunt  might  ask  fur- 
ther embarrassing  questions,  hastened  to  lead  the- 
conversation  away  from  the  Pendleton  house  and 
its  master. 

"Dr.  Chilton  says  so,  too  —  that  it  takes  a 
woman's  hand  and  heart,  or  a  child's  presence,  to 
make  a  home,  you  know,"  she  remarked. 

Miss  Polly  turned  with  a  start. 

"Dr.  Chilton!    How  do  you  know  —  that?" 

"  He  told  me  so.  'Twas  when  he  said  he  lived 
in  just  rooms,  you  know  —  not  a  home." 

Miss  Polly  did  not  answer.  Her  eyes  were  out 
the  window. 

"  So  I  asked  him  why  he  didn't  get  'em  —  a 
woman's  hand  and  heart,  and  have  a  home." 

"  Pollyanna !  "  Miss  Polly  had  turned  sharply. 
Her  cheeks  showed  a  sudden  color. 

"  Well,  I  did.  He  looked  so  —  so  sorrow- 
ful." 

"What  did  he  —  say?"  Miss  Polly  asked  the 
question  as  if  in  spite  of  some  force  within  her 
that  was  urging  her  not  to  ask  it. 

ki  He  didn't  say  anything  for  a  minute;  then  he 
said  very  low  that  you  couldn't  always  get  'em  for 
the  asking.'' 

There  was  a  brief  silence.    Miss  Polly's  eyes  had 


Two  Visits 


turned  again  to  the  window.  Her  cheeks  were  still 
unnaturally  pink. 

Pollyanna  sighed. 

"  He  wants  one,  anyhow,  I  know,  and  I  wish 
he  could  have  one." 

"  Why,  Pollyanna,  how  do  you  know?" 

"  Because,  afterwards,  on  another  day,  he  said 
something  else.  He  said  that  low,  too,  but  I  heard 
him.  He  said  that  he'd  give  all  the  world  if  he 
did  have  one  woman's  hand  and  heart.  Why, 
Aunt  Polly,  what's  the  matter  ?  "  Aunt  Polly  had 
risen  hurriedly  and  gone  to  the  window. 

"  Nothing,  dear.  I  was  changing  the  position 
of  this  prism,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  whose  whole  face 
now  was  aflame. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

THE    GAME    AND    ITS    PLAYERS 

It  was  not  long  after  John  Pendleton's  second 
visit  that  Milly  Snow  called  one  afternoon.  Milly 
Snow  had  never  before  been  to  the  Harrington 
homestead.  She  blushed  and  looked  very  embar- 
rassed when  Miss  Polly  entered  the  room. 

"I  —  I  came  to  inquire  for  the  little  girl,"  she 
stammered 

"  You  a  ~e  very  kind.  She  is  about  the  same. 
How  is  your  mother?"  rejoined  Miss  Polly, 
wearily. 

"  That  is  what  I  came  to  tell  you  —  that  is,  to 
ask  you  to  tell  Miss  Pollyanna,"  hurried  on  the 
girl,  breathlessly  and  incoherently.  "  We  think  it's 
—  so  awful  —  so  perfectly  awful  that  the  little 
thing  can't  ever  walk  again;  and  after  all  she's 
done  for  us,  too  —  for  mother,  you  know,  teaching 
her  to  play  the  game,  and  all  that.  And  when  we 
heard  how  now  she  couldn't  play  it  herself  —  poor 
little  dear !  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  how  she  can,  either, 
in  her  condition !  —  but  when  we  remembered  aD 

274 


The  Game  and  Its  Players         275 

the  things  she'd  said  to  us,  we  thought  if  she  could 
only  know  what  she  had  done  for  us,  that  it  would 
help,  you  know,  in  her  own  case,  about  the  game, 
because  she  could  be  glad  —  that  is,  a  little  glad  —  " 
Milly  stopped  helplessly,  and  seemed  to  be  waiting 
for  Miss  Polly  to  speak. 

Miss  Polly  had  sat  politely  listening,  but  with  a 
puzzled  questioning  in  her  eyes.  Only  about  half 
of  what  had  been  said,  had  she  understood.  She 
was  thinking  now  that  she  always  had  known  that 
Milly  Snow  was  "  queer,"  but  she  had  not  supposed 
she  was  crazy.  In  no  other  way,  however,  could 
she  account  for  this  incoherent,  illogical,  unmean- 
ing rush  of  words.  When  the  pause  came  she  filled 
it  with  a  quiet : 

"  I  don't  think  I  quite  understand,  Milly.  Just 
what  is  it  that  you  want  me  to  tell  my  niece  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  it ;  I  want  you  to  tell  her,"  answered 
the  girl,  feverishly.  "  Make  her  see  what  she's  done 
for  us.  Of  course  she's  seen  some  things,  because 
she's  been  there,  and  she's  known  mother  is  differ- 
ent ;  but  I  want  her  to  know  how  different  she  is  — 
and  me,  too.  I'm  different.  I've  been  trying  to 
play  it  —  the  game  —  a  little." 

Miss  Polly  frowned.  She  would  have  asked  what 
Milly  meant  by  this   "  game,"   but  there  was  no 


276  Pollyanna 

^  ■•  — a 

opportunity.  Milly  was  rushing  on  again  with 
nervous  volubility. 

"You  know  nothing  was  ever  right  before  — 
for  mother.  She  was  always  wanting  'em  different. 
And,  really,  I  don't  know  as  one  could  blame  her 
much  —  under  the  circumstances.  But  now  she  letp 
me  keep  the  shades  up,  and  she  takes  interest  in 
things  —  how  she  looks,  and  her  nightdress,  and 
all  that.  And  she's  actually  begun  to  knit  little 
things  —  reins  and  baby  blankets  for  fairs  and 
hospitals.  And  she's  so  interested,  and  so  glad  to 
think  she  can  do  it !  - —  and  that  was  all  Miss  Polly- 
anna's  doings,  you  know,  'cause  she  told  mother 
she  could  be  glad  she'd  got  her  hands  and  arms, 
anyway ;  and  that  made  mother  wonder  right  away 
why  she  didn't  do  something  with  her  hands  and 
arms.  And  so  she  began  to  do  something  —  to 
knit,  you  know.  And  you  can't  think  what  a  dif- 
ferent room  it  is  now,  what,  with  the  red  and  blue 
and  yellow  worsteds,  and  the  prisms  in  the  win- 
dow that  she  gave  her  —  why,  it  actually  makes 
you  feel  better  just  to  go  in  there  now ;  and  before 
I  used  to  dread  it  awfully,  it  was  so  dark  and 
gloomy,  and  mother  was  so  —  so  unhappy,  you 
know. 

"  And  so  we  want  you  to  please  tell  Miss  Polly* 


The  Game  and  Its  Players        277 

anna  that  we  understand  it's  all  because  of  her. 
And  please  say  we're  so  glad  we  know  her,  that  we 
thought,  maybe  if  she  knew  it,  it  would  make  her 
a  little  glad  that  she  knew  us.  And  —  and  that's 
all,"  sighed  Milly,  rising  hurriedly  to  her  feet. 
"You'll  tell  her?" 

"  Why,  of  course,"  murmured  Miss  Polly,  won- 
dering just  how  much  of  this  remarkable  discourse 
she  could  remember  to  tell. 

These  visits  of  John  Pendleton  and  Milly  Snow 
were  only  the  first  of  many;  and  always  there  were 
the  messages  —  the  messages  which  were  in  some 
ways  so  curious  that  they  caused  Miss  Polly  more 
and  more  to  puzzle  over  them. 

One  day  there  was  the  little  Widow  Benton. 
Miss  Polly  knew  her  well,  though  they  had  never 
called  upon  each  other.  By  reputation  she  knew 
her  as  the  saddest  little  woman  in  town  —  one  who 
was  always  in  black.  To-day,  however,  Mrs.  Ben- 
ton wore  a  knot  of  pale  blue  at  the  throat,  though 
there  were  tears  in  her  eyes.  She  spoke  of  her 
grief  and  horror  at  the  accident;  then  she  asked 
diffidently  if  she  might  see  Pollyanna. 

Miss  Polly  shook  her  head. 

"  I  am  sorry,  but  she  sees  no  one  yet.  A  little 
later  —  perhaps." 


278  Pollyanna 

Mrs.  Benton  wiped  her  eyes,  rose,  and  turned 
to  go.  But  after  she  had  almost  reached  the  hall 
door  she  came  back  hurriedly. 

"  Miss  Harrington,  perhaps  you'd  give  her  —  a 
message,"  she  stammered. 

"  Certainly,  Mrs.  Benton ;  I  shall  be  very  glad 
to." 

Still  the  little  woman  hesitated ;    then  she  spoke. 

"  Will  you  tell  her,  please,  that  —  that  I've  put 
on  this,"  she  said,  just  touching  the  blue  bow  at 
her  throat.  Then,  at  Miss  Polly's  ill-concealed  look 
of  surprise,  she  added :  "  The  little  girl  has  been 
trying  for  so  long  to  make  me  wear  —  some  color, 
that  I  thought  she'd  be  —  glad  to  know  I'd  begun. 
She  said  that  Freddy  would  be  so  glad  to  see  it, 
if  I  would.  You  know  Freddy's  all  I  have  now. 
The  others  have  all  —  "  Mrs.  Benton  shook  her 
head  and  turned  away.  "  If  you'll  just  tell  Polly- 
anna—  shell  understand."  And  the  door  closed 
after  her. 

A  little  later,  that  same  day,  there  was  the  other 
widow  —  at  least,  she  wore  widow's  garments. 
Miss  Polly  did  not  know  her  at  all.  She  wondered 
vaguely  how  Pollyanna  could  have  known  her.  The 
lady  gave  her  name  as  "  Mrs.  Tarbell." 

"  I'm  a  stranger  to  you,  of  course,"  she  bega* 


The  Game  and  Its  Players         279 

at  once.  "  But  I'm  not  a  stranger  to  your  little 
niece,  Pollyanna.  I've  been  at  the  hotel  all  summer, 
and  every  day  I've  had  to  take  long  walks  for  my 
health.  It  was  on  these  walks  that  I've  met  your 
niece  —  she's  such  a  dear  little  girl !  I  wish  I  could 
make  you  understand  what  she's  been  to  me.  I  was 
very  sad  when  I  came  up  here ;  and  her  bright  face 
and  cheery  ways  reminded  me  of  —  my  own  little 
girl  that  I  lost  years  ago.  I  was  so  shocked  to  hear 
of  the  accident;  and  then  when  I  learned  that  the 
poor  child  would  never  walk  again,  and  that  she 
was  so  unhappy  because  she  couldn't  be  glad  any 
longer  —  the  dear  child!  —  I  just  had  to  come  to 
you." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  murmured  Miss  Polly. 

"  But  it  is  you  who  are  to  be  kind,"  demurred  the 
other.  "I  —  I  want  you  to  give  her  a  message 
from  me.     Will  you?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Will  you  just  tell  her,  then,  that  Mrs.  Tarbell 
is  glad  now.  Yes,  I  know  it  sounds  odd,  and  you 
don't  understand.  But  —  if  you'll  pardon  me  I'd 
rather  not  explain."  Sad  lines  came  to  the  lady's 
mouth,  and  the  smile  left  her  eyes.  "  Your  niece 
will  know  just  what  I  mean ;  and  I  felt  that  I  must 
tell  —  her.     Thank  you ;    and  pardon  me,  please, 


280  Poliyanna 


for  any  seeming-  rudeness  in  my  call,'5  she  begged, 
as  she  took  her  leave. 

Thoroughly  mystified  now,  Miss  Polly  hurried 
up-stairs  to  Pollyanna's  room. 

"  Poliyanna,  do  you  know  a  Mrs.  Tarbell  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  love  Mrs.  TarbelL  She's  sick,  and 
awfully  sad;  and  she's  at  the  hotel,  and  takes  long 
walks.  We  go  together.  I  mean  —  we  used  to." 
Pollyanna's  voice  broke,  and  two  big  tears  rolled 
down  her  cheeks. 

Miss  Polly  cleared  her  throat  hurriedly. 

"  Well,  she's  just  been  here,  dear.  She  left  a 
message  for  you  —  but  she  wouldn't  tell  me  what 
it  meant.  She  said  to  tell  you  that  Mrs.  Tarbell 
is  glad  now." 

Poliyanna  clapped  her  hands  softly. 

"  Did  she  say  that  —  really?    Oh,  I'm  so  glad! ,s 

44  But,  Poliyanna,  what  did  she  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  it's  the  game,  and  — "  Poliyanna 
stopped  short,  her  ringers  to  her  lips. 

"What  game?" 

"  N-nothing  much,  Aunt  Polly;  that  is  —  I  ean'f 
tell  it  unless  I  tell  other  things  that  —  that  I'm  not 
to  speak  of." 

It  was  on  Miss  Polly's  tongue  to  question  her 
s?Iece  further;  but  the  obvious  distress  on  the  little 


The  Game  and  Its  Players        281 

girl's  face  stayed  the  words  before  they  were  ut- 
tered. 

Not  long  after  Mrs.  Tarbell's  visit,  the  climax 
came.  It  came  in  the  shape  of  a  call  from  a  certain 
young  woman  with  unnaturally  pink  cheeks  and 
abnormally  yellow  hair ;  a  young  woman  who  wore 
high  heels  and  cheap  jewelry;  a  young  woman 
whom  Miss  Polly  knew  very  well  by  reputation  — 
but  whom  she  was  angrily  amazed  to  meet  beneath 
the  roof  of  the  Harrington  homestead. 

Miss  Polly  did  not  offer  her  hand.  She  drew 
back,  indeed,  as  she  entered  the  room. 

The  woman  rose  at  once.  Her  eyes  were  very 
red,  as  if  she  had  been  crying.  Half  defiantly  she 
asked  if  she  might,  for  a  moment,  see  the  little 
girl,  Pollyanna. 

Miss  Polly  said  no.  She  began  to  say  it  very 
sternly;  but  something  in  the  woman's  pleading 
eyes  made  her  add  the  civil  explanation  that  no  one 
was  allowed  yet  to  see  Pollyanna. 

The  woman  hesitated;  then  a  little  brusquely  she 
spoke.  Her  chin  was  still  at  a  slightly  defiant 
tilt. 

"  My  name  is  Mrs.  Payson — Mrs.  Tom  Payson. 
I  presume  you've  heard  of  me — most  of  the  good 
people  in  the  town  have — and  maybe  some  of  the 


282  Pollyanna 


things  you've  heard  ain't  true.  But  never  mind 
that.  It's  about  the  little  girl  I  came.  I  heard  about 
the  accident,  and  —  and  it  broke  me  all  up.  Last 
week  I  heard  how  she  couldn't  ever  walk  again, 
and  —  and  I  wished  I  could  give  up  my  two  use- 
lessly well  legs  for  hers.  She'd  do  more  good 
trotting  around  on  'em  one  hour  than  I  could  in 
a  hundred  years.  But  never  mind  that.  Legs  ain't 
always  given  to  the  one  who  can  make  the  best  use 
of  'em,  I  notice." 

She  paused,  and  cleared  her  throat ;  but  when  she 
resumed  her  voice  was  still  husky. 

"  Maybe  you  don't  know  it,  but  I've  seen  a  good 
deal  of  that  little  girl  of  yours.  We  live  on  the  Pen- 
dleton Hill  road,  and  she  used  to  go  by  often  — 
only  she  didn't  always  go  by.  She  came  in  and 
played  with  the  kids  and  talked  to  me  —  and  my 
man,  when  he  was  home.  She  seemed  to  like  it, 
and  to  like  us.  She  didn't  know,  I  suspect,  that 
her  kind  of  folks  don't  generally  call  on  my  kind. 
Maybe  if  they  did  call  more,  Miss  Harrington, 
there  wouldn't  be  so  many  —  of  my  kind,"  she 
added,  with  sudden  bitterness. 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  she  came ;  and  she  didn't 
do  herself  no  harm,  and  she  did  do  us  good  —  a 
!ot  o'  good.     How  much  she  won't  know  —  nof 


The  Game  and  Its  Players         283 

can't  know,  I  hope;  'cause  if  she  did,  she'd  know 
other  things  —  that  I  don't  want  her  to  know. 

"  But  it's  just  this.  It's  been  hard  times  with 
us  this  year,  in  more  ways  than  one.  We've  been 
blue  and  discouraged  —  my  man  and  me,  and  ready 
for  —  'most  anything.  We  was  reckoning  on  get- 
ting a  divorce  about  now,  and  letting  the  kids  — 
well,  we  didn't  know  what  we  would  do  with  the 
kids.  Then  came  the  accident,  and  what  we  heard 
about  the  little  girl's  never  walking  again.  And 
we  got  to  thinking  how  she  used  to  come  and  sit 
on  our  doorstep  and  train  with  the  kids,  and  laugh, 
and  —  and  just  be  glad.  She  was  always  being 
glad  about  something;  and  then,  one  day,  she  told 
us  why,  and  about  the  game,  you  know;  and  tried 
to  coax  us  to  play  it. 

"  Well,  we've  heard  now  that  she's  fretting  her 
poor  little  life  out  of  her,  because  she  can't  play 
it  no  more  —  that  there's  nothing  to  be  glad  about. 
And  that's  what  I  came  to  tell  her  to-day  —  that 
maybe  she  can  be  a  little  glad  for  us,  'cause  we've 
decided  to  stick  to  each  other,  and  play  the  game 
ourselves.  I  knew  she  would  be  glad,  because  she 
used  to  feel  kind  of  bad  —  at  things  we  said,  some- 
times. Just  how  the  game  is  going  to  help  us,  I 
can't  say  that  I  exactly  see,  yet;   but  maybe  'twill* 


284  Pollyanna 

SSBSS  .i  ■    BBSS i  ,——--■ ,     .    !■■    >        * SB    SS^ 

Anyhow,  we're  going  to  try  —  'cause  she  wanted 
us  to.     Will  you  tell  her?  " 

"  Yes,  I  will  tell  her,"  promised  Miss  Polly,  a 
little  faintly.  Then,  with  sudden  impulse,  she 
stepped  forward  and  held  out  her  hand.  "  And 
thank  you  for  coming,  Mrs.  Pay  son,"  she  said 
simply. 

The  defiant  chin  fell.  The  lips  above  it  trembled 
visibly.  With  an  incoherently  mumbled  something, 
Mrs.  Payson  blindly  clutched  at  the  outstretched 
hand,  turned,  and  fled. 

The  door  had  scarcely  closed  behind  her  before 
Miss  Polly  was  confronting  Nancy  in  the  kitchen. 

"Nancy!" 

Miss  Polly  spoke  sharply.  The  series  of  puzzling, 
disconcerting  visits  of  the  last  few  days,  culmina- 
ting as  they  had  in  the  extraordinary  experience  of 
the  afternoon,  had  strained  her  nerves  to  the  snap- 
ping point.  Not  since  Miss  Pollyanna's  accident 
had  Nancy  heard  her  mistress  speak  so  sternly. 
;  "  Nancy,  will  you  tell  me  what  this  absurd 
'  game  '  is  that  the  whole  town  seems  to  be  babbling 
about?  And  what,  please,  has  my  niece  to  do  with 
it  ?  Why  does  everybody,  from  Milly  Snow  to  Mrs. 
Tom  Payson,  send  word  to  her  that  they're  '  playing 
it '  ?     As  near  as  I  can  judge,  half  the  town  are 


The  Game  and  Its  Players        285 

putting  on  blue  ribbons,  or  stopping  family  quarrels, 
or  learning  to  like  something  they  never  liked  be- 
fore, and  all  because  of  Pollyanna.  I  tried  to  ask 
the  child  herself  about  it,  but  I  can't  seem  to  make 
much  headway,  and  of  course  I  don't  like  to  worry 
her  —  now.  But  from  something  I  heard  her  say 
to  you  last  night,  I  should  judge  you  were  one  of 
them,  too.  Now  will  you  tell  me  what  it  all 
means  ?  " 

To  Miss  Polly's  surprise  and  dismay,  Nancy 
burst  into  tears. 

"  It  means  that  ever  since  last  June  that  blessed 
child  has  jest  been  makin'  the  whole  town  glad, 
an'  now  they're  turnin'  'round  an'  tryin'  ter  make 
her  a  little  glad,  too." 

"Glad  of  what?" 

"  Just  glad !     That's  the  game." 

Miss  Polly  actually  stamped  her  foot. 

"  There  you  go  like  all  the  rest,  Nancy.  What 
game  ?  " 

Nancy  lifted  her  chin.  She  faced  her  mistress 
and  looked  her  squarely  in  the  eye. 

"  I'll  tell  ye,  ma'am.  It's  a  game  Miss  Polly- 
anna's  father  learned  her  ter  play.  She  got  a  pair 
of  crutches  once  in  a  missionary  barrel  when  she 
was  wantin'  a  doll;    an'  she  cried,  of  course,  like 


-gse  Pollyanna 

any  child  would.  It  seems  'twas  then  her  father 
told  her  that  there  wasn't  ever  anythin'  but  what 
there  was  somethin'  about  it  that  you  could  be  glad 
about;  an'  that  she  could  be  glad  about  them 
crutches." 

"Glad  for  —  crutches!"  Miss  Polly  choked 
back  a  sob —  she  was  thinking  of  the  helpless  little 
legs  on  the  bed  up-stairs. 

"  Yes'm.  That's  what  I  said,  an'  Miss  Pollyanna 
said  that's  what  she  said,  too.  But  he  told  her  she 
could  be  glad  —  'cause  she  didn't  need  'em!' 

"Oh-h!"  cried  Miss  Polly. 

"  And  after  that  she  said  he  made  a  regular  game 
of  it  —  findin'  somethin'  in  everythin'  ter  be  glad 
about.  An'  she  said  ye  could  do  it,  too,  and  that 
ye  didn't  seem  ter  mind  not  havin'  the  doll  so  much, 
'cause  ye  was  so  glad  ye  didn't  need  the  crutches. 
An'  they  called  it  the  '  jest  bein'  glad '  game. 
That's  the  game,  ma'am.  She's  played  it  ever 
since." 

"  But,  how  —  how  —  "  Miss  Polly  came  to  a 
helpless  pause. 

"  An'  you'd  be  surprised  ter  find  how  cute  it 
works,  ma'am,  too,"  maintained  Nancy,  with  al- 
most the  eagerness  of  Pollyanna  herself.  "  I  wish 
I  could  tell  ye  what  a  lot  she's  done  for  mother  an' 


The  Game  and  Its  Players        287 

the  folks  out  home.  She's  been  ter  see  'em,  ye 
know,  twice,  with  me.  She's  made  me  glad,  too, 
on  such  a  lot  o'  things  —  little  things,  an'  big 
things ;  an'  it's  made  'em  so  much  easier.  For 
instance,  I  don't  mind  '  Nancy '  for  a  name  half  as 
much  since  she  told  me  I  could  be  glad  'twa'n't 
'  Hephzibah.'  An'  there's  Monday  mornin's,  too, 
that  I  used  ter  hate  so.  She's  actually  made  me  glad 
for  Monday  mornin's." 

"  Glad  —  for  Monday  mornings !  " 

Nancy  laughed. 

"  I  know  it  does  sound  nutty,  ma'am.  But  let 
me  tell  ye.  That  blessed  lamb  found  out  I  hated 
Monday  mornin's  somethin'  awful;  an'  what  does 
she  up  an'  tell  me  one  day  but  this :  '  Well,  anyhow, 
Nancy,  I  should  think  you  could  be  gladder  on 
Monday  mornin'  than  on  any  other  day  in  the 
week,  because  'twould  be  a  whole  week  before 
you'd  have  another  one! '  An'  I'm  blest  if  I  hain't 
thought  of  it  ev'ry  Monday  mornin'  since  —  an'  it 
has  helped,  ma'am.  It  made  me  laugh,  anyhow, 
ev'ry  time  I  thought  of  it;  an'  laughin'  helps,  ye 
know  —  it  does,  it  does !  " 

"But  why  hasn't  —  she  told  me  —  the  game?" 
faltered  Miss  Polly.  "  Why  has  she  made  such  a 
■nystery  of  it,  when  I  asked  her?  " 


288  Pollyanna 


Nancy  hesitated. 

"  Beggin'  yer  pardon,  ma'am,  you  told  her  not 
ter  speak  of  —  her  father;  so  she  couldn't  tell  ye. 
Twas  her  father's  game,  ye  see." 

Miss  Polly  bit  her  lip. 

"  She  wanted  ter  tell  ye,  first  off,"  continued 
Nancy,  a  little  unsteadily.  "  She  wanted  somebody 
ter  play  it  with,  ye  know.  That's  why  I  begun  it, 
—  so  she  could  have  some  one." 

"  And  —  and  —  these  others  ?  "  Miss  Polly's 
voice  shook  now. 

"  Oh,  ev'rybody,  'most,  knows  it  now,  I  guess. 
Anyhow,  I  should  think  they  did  from  the  way 
I'm  hearin'  of  it  ev'rywhere  I  go.  Of  course  she 
told  a  lot,  and  they  told  the  rest.  Them  things  go, 
ye  know,  when  they  gets  started.  An'  she  was 
always  so  smilin'  an'  pleasant  ter  ev'ry  one,  an' 
so  —  so  jest  glad  herself  all  the  time,  that  they 
couldn't  help  knowin'  it,  anyhow.  Now,  since  she's 
hurt,  ev'rybody  feels  so  bad  —  specially  when  they, 
heard  how  bad  she  feels  'cause  she  can't  find  any- 
thin'  ter  be  glad  about.  An'  so  they've  been  comin5 
ev'ry  day  ter  tell  her  how  glad  she's  made  them, 
hopin'  that'll  help  some.  Ye  see,  she's  always 
wanted  ev'rybody  ter  play  the  game  with  her." 

"  Well.  I  know  somebody  who'll  play  it  —  now/' 


The  Game  and  Its  Players         289 

choked  Miss  Polly,  as  she  turned  and  sped  through 
the  kitchen  doorway. 

Behind  her,  Nancy  stood  staring  amazedly. 

"  Well,  I'll  believe  anythin'  —  anythin'  now,"  she 
muttered  to  herself.  "  Ye  can't  stump  me  with  any- 
thin' I  wouldn't  believe  now  —  o'  Miss  Polly !  " 

A  little  later,  in  Pollyanna's  roc  a,  the  nurse  left 
Miss  Polly  and  Pollyanna  alone  together. 

"  And  you've  had  still  another  caller  to-day,  my 
dear,"  announced  Miss  Polly,  in  a  voice  she  vainly 
tried  to  steady.  "  Do  you  remember  Mrs.  Pay- 
son?" 

"  Mrs.  Payson  ?  Why,  I  reckon  I  do !  She  lives 
on  the  way  to  Mr.  Pendleton's,  and  she's  got  the 
prettiest  little  girl  baby  three  years  old,  and  a  boy 
'most  five.  She's  awfully  nice,  and  so's  her  hus- 
band —  only  they  don't  seem  to  know  how  nice 
each  other  is.  Sometimes  they  fight  —  I  mean, 
they  don't  quite  agree.  They're  poor,  too,  they 
say,  and  of  course  they  don't  ever  have  barrels, 
'cause  he  isn't  a  missionary  minister,  you  know, 
like  —  well,  he  isn't." 

A  faint  color  stole  into  Pollyanna's  cheeks  which 
Was  duplicated  suddenly  in  those  of  her  aunt. 

"  But  she  wears  real  pretty  clothes,  sometimes,  in 
spite  of  their  being  so  poor,"  resumed  Pollyanna,  {» 


290  Pollyanna 


some  haste.  "  And  she's  got  perfectly  beautiful 
rings  with  diamonds  and  rubies  and  emeralds  in 
them;  but  she  says  she's  got  one  ring  too  many, 
and  that  she's  going  to  throw  it  away  and  get  a 
divorce  instead.  What  is  a  divorce,  Aunt  Polly? 
I'm  afraid  it  isn't  very  nice,  because  she  didn't  look 
happy  when  she  talked  about  it.  And  she  said  if 
she  did  get  it,  they  wouldn't  live  there  any  more,  and 
that  Mr.  Payson  would  go  'way  off,  and  maybe  the 
children,  too.  But  I  should  think  they'd  rather 
keep  the  ring,  even  if  they  did  have  so  many  more. 
Shouldn't  you?     Aunt  Polly,  what  is  a  divorce?" 

"  But  they  aren't  going  'way  off,  dear,"  evaded 
Aunt  Polly,  hurriedly.  "  They're  going  to  stay 
right  there  together." 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad !  Then  they'll  be  there  when 
I  go  up  to  see  —  O  dear!  "  broke  off  the  little  girl, 
miserably.  "  Aunt  Polly,  why  can't  I  remember 
that  my  legs  don't  go  any  more,  and  that  I  won't 
ever,  ever  go  up  to  see  Mr.  Pendleton  again?" 

"  There,  there,  don't,"  choked  her  aunt.  "  Per- 
haps you'll  drive  up  sometime.  But  listen!  I 
haven't  told  you,  yet,  all  that  Mrs.  Payson  said. 
She  wanted  me  to  tell  you  that  they  —  they  were 
going  to  stay  together  and  to  play  the  game,  just 
as  you  wanted  them  to." 


The  Game  and  Its  Players         291 
*  j 

Pollyanna  smiled  through  tear-wet  eyes. 

"  Did  they?  Did  they,  really?  Oh,  I  am  glad  of 
that!" 

"  Yes,  she  said  she  hoped  you'd  be.  That's  why 
she  told  you,  to  make  you  —  glad,  Pollyanna." 

Pollyanna  looked  up  quickly. 

"  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  you  —  you  spoke  just  as  if 
you  knew  —  Do  you  know  about  the  game,  Aunt 
Polly?" 

"  Yes,  dear."  Miss  Polly  sternly  forced  her 
voice  to  be  cheerfully  matter-of-fact.  "  Nancy 
told  me.  I  think  it's  a  beautiful  game.  I'm  going 
to  play  it  now  —  with  you." 

"Oh,  Aunt  Polly  —  you?  I'm  so  glad!  You 
see,  I've  really  wanted  you  most  of  anybody,  all  the 
time." 

Aunt  Polly  caught  her  breath  a  little  sharply.  It 
was  even  harder  this  time  to  keep  her  voice  steady ; 
but  she  did  it. 

"Yes,  dear;  and  there  are  all  those  others,  too. 
Why,  Pollyanna,  I  think  all  the  town  is  playing  that 
game  now  with  you  —  even  to  the  minister!  I 
haven't  had  a  chance  to  tell  you,  yet,  but  this  morn- 
ing I  met  Mr.  Ford  when  I  was  down  to  the  village, 
and  he  told  me  to  say  to  you  that  just  as  soon  as 
you  could  see  him,  he  was  coming  to  tell  you  tha* 


292  Pollyanna 

he  hadn't  stopped  being  glad  over  those  eight  hun< 
dred  rejoicing  texts  that  you  told  him  about.  Sc 
you  see,  dear,  it's  just  you  that  have  done  it.  The 
whole  town  is  playing  the  game,  and  the  whole 
town  is  wonderfully  happier  —  and  all  because  of 
one  little  girl  who  taught  the  people  a  new  game, 
and  how  to  play  it." 

Pollyanna  clapped  her  hands. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad,"  she  cried.  Then,  suddenly,  a 
wonderful  light  illumined  her  face.  "  Why,  Aunt 
Polly,  there  is  something  I  can  be  glad  about,  after 
all.  I  can  be  glad  I've  had  my  legs,  anyway  —  else 
I  couldn't  have  done  —  that !  " 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

THROUGH    AN    OPEN    WINDOW 

One  by  one  the  short  winter  days  came  and  went 
■ —  but  they  were  not  short  to  Pollyanna.  They 
were  long,  and  sometimes  full  of  pain.  Very  reso- 
lutely, these  days,  however,  Pollyanna  was  turning 
a  cheerful  face  toward  whatever  came.  Was  she 
not  specially  bound  to  play  the  game,  now  that  Aunt 
Polly  was  playing  it,  too?  And  Aunt  Polly  found 
so  many  things  to  be  glad  about!  It  was  Aunt 
Polly,  too,  who  discovered  the  story  one  day  about 
the  two  poor  little  waifs  in  a  snow-storm  who  found 
a  blown-down  door  to  crawl  under,  and  who  won- 
dered what  poor  folks  did  that  didn't  have  any 
door!  And  it  was  Aunt  Polly  who  brought  home 
the  other  story  that  she  had  heard  about  the  poor 
old  lady  who  had  only  two  teeth,  but  who  was  so 
glad  that  those  two  teeth  "  hit  " ! 

Pollyanna  now,  like  Mrs.  Snow,  was  knitting 
wonderful  tnings  out  of  bright  colored  woisteds 

293 


294  Pollyanna 

that  trailed  their  cheery  lengths  across  the  white 
spread,  and  made  Pollyanna  —  again  like  Mrs. 
Snow  —  so  glad  she  had  her  hands  and  arms,  any- 
way. 

Pollyanna  saw  people  now,  occasionally,  and  al- 
ways there  were  the  loving  messages  from  those 
she  could  not  see;  and  always  they  brought  her 
something  new  to  think  about  —  and  Pollyanna 
needed  new  tilings  to  think  about. 

Once  she  had  seen  John  Pendleton,  and  twice  she 
had  seen  Jimmy  Bean.  John  Pendleton  had  told 
her  what  a  fine  boy  Jimmy  was  getting  to  be,  and 
how  well  he  was  doing.  Jimmy  had  told  her  what 
a  first-rate  home  he  had,  and  what  bang-up  "  folks  " 
Mr.  Pendleton  made ;  and  both  had  said  that  it  was 
all  owing  to  her. 

"  Which  makes  me  all  the  gladder,  you  know, 
that  I  have  had  my  legs,"  Pollyanna  confided  to  her 
aunt  afterwards. 

The  winter  passed,  and  spring  came.  The  anx- 
ious watchers  over  Pollyanna's  condition  could  see 
vittle  change  wrought  by  the  prescribed  treatment. 
There  seemed  every  reason  to  believe,  indeed,  that 
Dr.  Mead's  worst  fears  would  be  realized  —  that 
Pollyanna  would  never  walk  again. 


Through  an  Open  Window 


Beldmgsville,  of  course,  kept  itself  informed  con- 
cerning Pollyanna ;  and  of  Beldingsville,  one  man 
in  particular  fumed  and  fretted  himself  into  a  fever 
of  anxiety  over  the  daily  bulletins  which  he  man- 
aged in  some  way  to  procure  from  the  bed  of  suf- 
fering. As  the  days  passed,  however,  and  the  news 
came  to  be  no  better,  but  rather  worse,  something 
besides  anxiety  began  to  show  in  the  man's  face: 
despair,  and  a  very  dogged  determination,  each 
fighting  for  the  mastery.  In  the  end,  the  dogged 
determination  won;  and  it  was  then  that  Mr.  John 
Pendleton,  somewhat  to  his  surprise,  received  one 
Saturday  morning  a  call  from  Dr.  Thomas  Chil- 
ton. 

"  Pendleton,"  began  the  doctor,  abruptly,  "  I've 
come  to  you  because  }'0U,  better  than  any  one  else 
in  town,  know  something  of  my  relations  with  Miss 
Polly  Harrington." 

John  Pendleton  was  conscious  that  he  must  have 
started  visibly  —  he  did  know  something  of  the 
affair  between  Polly  Harrington  and  Thomas  Chil- 
ton, but  the  matter  had  not  been  mentioned  between 
them  for  fifteen  years,  or  more. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  trying  to  make  his  voice  sound 
concerned  enough  for  sympathy,  and  not  eagei 
enough  for  curiosity.    In  a  moment  he  saw  that  he 


Pollyanna 


need  not  have  worried,  however :  the  doctor  was 
quite  too  intent  on  his  errand  to  notice  how  that 
errand  was  received. 

"  Pendleton,  I  want  to  see  that  child.  I  want  to 
make  an  examination.  I  must  make  an  examina- 
tion." 

"Well  — can't  you?" 

"  Can't  I !  Pendleton,  you  know  very  well  I 
haven't  been  inside  that  door  for  more  than  fifteen 
years.  You  don't  know  —  but  I  will  tell  you  — • 
that  the  mistress  of  that  house  told  me  that  the  next 
time  she  asked  me  to  enter  it,  I  might  take  it  that 
she  was  begging'  my  pardon,  and  that  all  would  be 
as  before  —  which  meant  that  she'd  marry  me. 
Perhaps  you  see  her  summoning  me  now  —  but  I 
don't !  " 

"  But  couldn't  you  go  —  without  a  sum- 
mons ?  " 

The  doctor  frowned. 

"  Well,  hardly.  /  have  some  pride,  you 
know." 

"  But  if  you're  so  anxious  —  couldn't  you  swal- 
low your  pride  and  forget  the  quarrel  —  " 

"  Forget  the  quarrel !  "  interrupted  the  doctor, 
savagely.  "  I'm  not  talking  of  that  kind  of  pride. 
So  far  as  that  is  concerned,  I'd  go  from  here  there 


Through  an  Open  Window         297 

on  my  knees  —  or  on  my  head  —  if  that  would  do 
any  good.  It's  professional  pride  I'm  talking 
about.  It's  a  case  of  sickness,  and  I'm  a  doc- 
tor. I  can't  butt  in  and  say,  '  Here,  take  me ! '  — ■ 
can  I?" 

"  Chilton,  what  was  the  quarrel  ? "  demanded 
Pendleton. 

The  doctor  made  an  impatient  gesture,  and  got  to 
his  feet. 

"  What  was  it  ?  What's  any  lovers'  quarrel  — 
after  it's  over?"  he  snarled,  pacing  the  room  an- 
grily. "  A  silly  wrangle  over  the  size  of  the  moon 
or  the  depth  of  a  river,  maybe  —  it  might  as  well 
be,  so  far  as  its  having  any  real  significance  com- 
pared to  the  years  of  misery  that  follow  them! 
Never  mind  the  quarrel !  So  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
I  am  willing  to  say  there  was  no  quarrel.  Pendle- 
ton, I  must  see  that  child.  It  may  mean  life  or 
death.  It  will  mean  —  I  honestly  believe  —  nine 
chances  out  of  ten  that  Pollyanna  Whittier  will 
walk  again ! " 

The  words  were  spoken  clearly,  impressively; 
and  they  were  spoken  just  as  the  one  who  uttered 
them  had  almost  reached  the  open  window  near 
John  Pendleton's  chair.  Thus  it  happened  that 
very  distinctly  they  reached  the  ears  of  a  small  boy 


298  Poliyanna 


kneeling  beneath  tLe  window  on  the  ground  out-* 
side. 

Jimmy  Bean,  at  his  Saturday  morning  task  of 
pulling  up  the  first  little  green  weeds  of  the  flower- 
beds, sat  up  with  ears  and  eyes  wide  open. 

"Walk!  Poliyanna!"  John  Pendleton  was  say- 
ing.   "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  from  what  I  can  hear  and  learn  — ■ 
a  mile  from  her  bedside  —  that  her  case  is  very 
much  like  one  that  a  college  friend  of  mine  has  just 
helped.  For  years  he's  been  making  this  sort  of 
thing  a  special  study.  I've  kept  in  touch  with  him, 
and  studied,  too,  in  a  way.  And  from  what  I  hear 
—  but  I  want  to  see  the  girl !  " 

John  Pendleton  came  erect  in  his  chair. 

"  You  must  see  her,  man !  Couldn't  you  —  say, 
through  Dr.  Warren?" 

The  other  shook  his  head. 

"  I'm  afraid  not.  Warren  has  been  very  decent, 
though.  He  told  me  himself  that  he  suggested  con- 
sultation with  me  at  the  first,  but  —  Miss  Harring- 
ton said  no  so  decisively  that  he  didn't  dare  venture 
it  again,  even  though  he  knew  of  my  desire  to  see 
the  child.  Lately,  some  of  his  best  patients  have 
come  over  to  me  —  so  of  course  that  ties  my  hands 
still  more  effectually.     But,  Pendleton,  I've  got  to 


Through  an  Open  Window         299 

see  that  child!  Think  of  what  it  may  mean  to  her 
—  if  I  do!" 

"Yes,  and  think  of  what  it  will  mean  —  if  you 
don't!  "  retorted  Pendleton. 

"  But  how  can  I  —  without  a  direct  request  from 
her  aunt?  —  which  I'll  never  get!" 

"  She  must  be  made  to  ask  you !  " 

"How?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  No,  I  guess  you  don't  —  nor  an)^body  else. 
She's  too  proud  and  too  angry  to  ask  me  —  after 
what  she  said  years  ago  it  would  mean  if  she  did 
ask  me.  But  when  I  think  of  that  child,  doomed 
to  lifelong  misery,  and  when  I  think  that  maybe  in 
my  hands  lies  a  chance  of  escape,  but  for  that  con- 
founded nonsense  we  call  pride  and  professional 
etiquette,  I  —  "  He  did  not  finish  his  sentence,  but 
with  his  hands  thrust  deep  into  his  pockets,  he 
turned  and  began  to  tramp  up  and  down  the  room 
again,  angrily. 

"But  if  she  could  be  made  to  see  —  to  under- 
stand," urged  John  Pendleton. 

"  Yes ;  and  who's  going  to  do  it?  "  demanded  the 
doctor,  with  a  savage  turn. 

"  I  don't  know,  I  don't  know,"  groaned  the  other, 
miserably. 


300  Follyanna 


Outside  the  window  Jimmy  Bean  stirred  sud° 
denly.  Up  to  now  he  had  scarcely  breathed,  so  in= 
tently  had  he  listened  to  every  word. 

"  Well,  by  Jinks,  I  know !  "  he  whispered,  exult- 
ingly.  "  I'm  a-goin'  ter  do  it !  "  And  forthwith  he 
rose  to  his  feet,  crept  stealthily  around  the  corner 
of  the  house,  and  ran  with  all  his  might  down  Pea-: 
dletoB  HiiL 


CHAPTER    XXX 

JIMMY   TAKES   THE   HELM 

"  It's  Jimmy  Bean.  He  wants  ter  see  ye, 
ma'am,"  announced  Nancy  in  the  doorway. 

"Me?"  rejoined  Miss  Polly,  plainly  surprised. 
"Are  you  sure  he  did  not  mean  Miss  Pollyanna? 
He  may  see  her  a  few  minutes  to-day,  if  he  likes." 

"  Yes'm.  I  told  him.  But  he  said  it  was  you  he 
wanted." 

"  Very  well,  I'll  come  down."  And  Miss  Polly 
arose  from  her  chair  a  little  wearily. 

In  the  sitting  room  she  found  waiting  for  her  a 
round-eyed,  flushed-faced  boy,  who  began  to  speak 
at  once. 

"  Ma'am,  I  s'pose  it's  dreadful  —  what  I'm  doin', 
an'  what  I'm  sayin' ;  but  I  can't  help  it.  It's  for 
Pollyanna,  and  I'd  walk  over  hot  coals  for  her,  or 
face  you,  or  —  or  anythin'  like  that,  any  time.  An' 
I  think  you  would,  too,  if  you  thought  there  was  a 
chance  for  her  ter  walk  again.  An'  so  that's  why 
I  come  ter  tell  ye  that  as  long  as  it's  only  pride 

301 


302  Pollyanna 

an'  et —  et-somethin'  that's  keepin'  Pollyanna  from 
walkin',  why  I  knew  you  would  ask  Dr.  Chilton 
here  if  you  understood  —  " 

"Wh-at?"  interrupted  Miss  Polly,  the  look  of 
stupefaction  on  her  face  changing  to  one  of  angry 
indignation. 

Jimmy  sighed  despairingly. 

"  There,  I  didn't  mean  ter  make  ye  mad.  That's 
why  I  begun  by  tellin'  ye  about  her  walkin'  again. 
I  thought  you'd  listen  ter  that." 

"Jimmy,  what  are  you  talking  about?" 

Jimmy  sighed  again. 

"  That's  what  I'm  tryin'  ter  tell  ye." 

"  Well,  then  tell  me.  But  begin  at  the  beginning, 
and  be  sure  I  understand  each  thing  as  you  go. 
Don't  plunge  into  the  middle  of  it  as  you  did  before 
= —  and  mix  everything  all  up!  " 

Jimmy  wet  his  lips  determinedly. 

"  Well,  ter  begin  with,  Dr.  Chilton  come  ter  see 
Mr.  Pendleton,  an'  they  talked  in  the  library.  Do 
you  understand  that?" 

"  Yes,  Jimmy."  Miss  Polly's  voice  was  rather 
faint. 

"  Well,  the  window  was  open,  and  I  was  weedin' 
the  flower-bed  under  it;    an'  I  heard  'em  talk." 

"  Oh,  Jimmy !     Listening?  " 


Jimmy  Takes  the  Helm  803 

"  'Twa'n't  about  me,  an'  'twa'n't  sneak  listenin'," 
bridled  Jimmy.  "  And  I'm  glad  I  listened.  You 
will  be  when  I  tell  ye.  Why,  it  may  make  Polly- 
anna  —  walk !  " 

"  Jimmy,  what  do  you  mean?  "  Miss  Polly  was 
leaning  forward  eagerly. 

"  There,  I  told  ye  so,"  nodded  Jimmy,  con- 
tentedly. "  Well,  Dr.  Chilton  knows  some  doctor 
somewhere  that  can  cure  Pollyanna,  he  thinks  — 
make  her  walk,  ye  know ;  but  he  can't  tell  sure  till 
he  sees  her.  And  he  wants  ter  see  her  somethin' 
awful,  but  he  told  Mr.  Pendleton  that  you  wouldn't 
let  him." 

Miss  Polly's  face  turned  very  red. 

"  But,  Jimmy,  I  —  I  can't  —  I  couldn't !  That  is, 
I  didn't  know !  "  Miss  Polly  was  twisting  her  fin- 
gers together  helplessly. 

"  Yes,  an'  that's  what  I  come  ter  tell  ye,  so  you 
would  know,"  asserted  Jimmy,  eagerly.  "  They 
said  that  for  some  reason  —  I  didn't  rightly  catch 
what  — ■  you  wouldn't  let  Dr.  Chilton  come,  an'  you 
told  Dr.  Warren  so ;  an'  Dr.  Chilton  couldn't  come 
himself,  without  you  asked  him,  on  account  of 
pride  an'  professional  et —  et —  well,  et-somethin,' 
anyway.  An'  they  was  wishin"  somebody  could 
make  you  understand,  ©nly  they  didn't  know  who 


304  jpoilyanna 

could;  an'  I  was  outside  the  winder,  an'  I  says 
ter  myself  right  away,  '  By  Jinks,  I'll  do  it! '  An' 
I  come  —  an'  have  I  made  ye  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes;  but,  Jimmy,  about  that  doctor,"  implored 
Miss  Polly,  feverishly.  "Who  was  he?  What  did 
he  do?  Are  they  sure  he  could  make  Pollyanna 
walk?" 

"  I  don't  know  who  he  was.  They  didn't  say. 
Dr.  Chilton  knows  him,  an'  he's  just  cured  some- 
body just  like  her,  Dr.  Chilton  thinks.  Anyhow, 
they  didn't  seem  ter  be  doin'  no  worryin'  about  him. 
'Twas  you  they  was  worryin'  about,  'cause  you 
wouldn't  let  Dr.  Chilton  see  her.  An'  say  —  you 
will  let  him  come,  won't  you? — now  you  under- 
stand ?  " 

Miss  Polly  turned  her  head  from  side  to  side. 
Her  breath  was  coming  in  little  uneven,  rapid 
gasps.  Jimmy,  watching  her  with  anxious  eyes, 
thought  she  was  going  to  cry.  But  she  did  not  cry. 
After  a  minute  she  said  brokenly: 

"  Yes  —  I'll  let  —  Dr.  Chilton  —  see  hen  Now 
run  home,  Jimmy  —  quick!  I've  got  to  speak  to 
Dr.  Warren.  He's  up-stairs  now.  I  saw  him  drive 
in  a  few  minutes  ago." 

A  little  later  Dr.  Warren  was  surprised  to  meet 
an  agitated,  rlushed-faced  Miss  Polly  in  the  hall 


Jimmy  Takes  the  Helm  305 

He  was  still  more  surprised  to  hear  the  lady  say,  a 
little  breathlessly : 

"  Dr.  Warren,  you  asked  me  once  to  allow  Dr. 
Chilton  to  be  called  in  consultation,  and  —  I  re- 
fused. Since  then  I  have  reconsidered.  I  very 
much  desire  that  you  should  call  in  Dr.  Chilton. 
Will  you  not  ask  him  at  once  —  please?     Thank 

you." 


CHAPTER    XXXI 

A    NEW    UNCXE 

The  next  time  Dr.  Warren  entered  the  chambei 
where  Pollyanna  lay  watching  the  dancing  shimmer 
of  color  on  the  ceiling,  a  tall,  broad-shouldered  man 
followed  close  behind  him. 

"  Dr.  Chilton !  —  oh,  Dr.  Chilton,  how  glad  I  am 
to  see  you! "  cried  Pollyanna.  And  at  the  joyous 
rapture  of  the  voice,  more  than  one  pair  of  eyes  \% 
the  room  brimmed  hot  with  sudden  tears.  "  But- 
of  course,  if  Aunt  Polly  doesn't  want  —  " 

"  It  is  all  right,  my  dear ;  don't  worry,"  soothec 
Miss  Polly,  agitatedly,  hurrying  forward.  "  I  havi 
told  Dr.  Chilton  that  —  that  I  want  him  to  look  you 
over  —  with  Dr.  Warren,  this  morning." 

"  Oh,  then  you  asked  him  to  come,"  murmured 
Pollyanna,  contentedly. 

'''  Yes,  dear,  I  asked  him.  That  is  —  "  But  it 
was  too  late.  The  adoring  happiness  that  had 
leaped  to  Dr.  Chilton's  eyes  was  unmistakable,  and 
Miss  Polly  had  seen  it.  With  very  pink  cheeks  she 
turned  and  left  the  room  hurriedly* 

8r»* 


A  New  Uncle  30? 

-» 

Over  in  the  window  the  nurse  and  Dr.  Warren 
were  talking  earnestly,  Dr.  Chilton  held  out  both 
his  hands  to  Poilyanna. 

"  Little  girl,  I'm  thinking  that  one  of  the  very 
gladdest  jobs  you  ever  did  has  been  done  to-day," 
he  said  in  a  voice  shaken  with  emotion. 

At  twilight  a  wonderfully  tremulous,  wonder- 
fully different  Aunt  Polly  crept  to  Pollyanna's  bed- 
side. The  nurse  was  at  supper.  They  had  the 
room  to  themselves. 

"  Poilyanna,  dear,  I'm  going  to  tell  you  —  the 
very  first  one  of  all.  Some  day  I'm  going  to  give 
Dr.  Chilton  to  you  for  your  —  uncle.  And  it's  you 
that  have  done  it  all.  Oh,  Poilyanna,  I'm  so  — ■ 
happy!     And  so  —  glad!  —  darling!" 

Poilyanna  began  to  clap  her  hands;  but  even  as 
she  brought  her  small  palms  together  the  first  time, 
she  stopped,  and  held  them  suspended. 

"  Aunt  Polly,  Aunt  Polly,  were  you  the  woman's 
hand  and  heart  he  wanted  so  long  ago?  You  were 
—  I  know  you  were !  And  that's  what  he  meant  by 
paying  I'd  done  the  gladdest  job  of  all  —  to-day, 
I'm  so  glad!  Why,  Aunt  Polly,  I  don't  know  but 
I'm  so  glad  that  I  don't  mind  —  even  my  legs* 
now !  " 

Aunt  Polly  swallowed  a  sob. 


308  Pollyanna 


"  Perhaps,  some  day,  dear  —  "  But  Aunt  Polly 
did  not  finish.  Aunt  Polly  did  not  dare  to  tell,  yet, 
the  great  hope  that  Dr.  Chilton  had  put  into  her 
heart.  But  she  did  say  this  —  and  surely  this  was 
quite  wonderful  enough  —  to  Pollyanna's  mind : 

"  Pollyanna,  next  week  you're  going  to  take  a 
journey.  On  a  nice  comfortable  little  bed  you're 
going  to  be  carried  in  cars  and  carriages  to  a  great 
doctor  who  has  a  big  house  many  miles  from  here 
made  on  purpose  for  just  such  people  as  you  are. 
He's  a  dear  friend  of  Dr.  Chilton's,  and  we're  going 
to  see  what  he  can  do  for  you  S  " 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

WHICH  IS  A  LETTER  FROM   POLLYANNA 

"  Dear  Aunt  Polly  and  Uncle  Tom  :  —  Oh,  I 
Can  —  I  can  —  I  can  walk !  I  did  to-day  all  the  way 
from  my  bed  to  the  window!  It  was  six  steps. 
My,  how  good  it  was  to  be  on  legs  again ! 

"  All  the  doctors  stood  around  and  smiled,  and  all 
the  nurses  stood  beside  of  them  and  cried.  A  lady 
in  the  next  ward  who  walked  last  week  first,  peeked 
into  the  dooi,  and  another  one  who  hopes  she  can 
walk  next  month,  was  invited  in  to  the  party,  and 
she  laid  on  my  nurse's  bed  and  clapped  her  hands. 
Even  Black  Tilly  who  washes  the  floor,  looked 
through  the  piazza  window  and  called  me  '  Honey, 
child '  when  she  wasn't  crying  too  much  to  call  me 
anything. 

"  I  don't  see  why  they  cried.  /  wanted  to  sing 
and  shout  and  yell !  Oh  —  oh  —  oh !  Just  think, 
I  can  walk  —  walk  —  walk!  Now  I  don't  mind 
being  here  almost  ten  months,  and  I  didn't  miss  the 
wedding,  anyhow.    Wasn't  that  just  like  you,  Aunt 

300 


310  Pollyanna 

— — — -  .    rtt 

Polly,  to  come  on  here  and  get  married  right  beside 
my  bed,  so  I  could  see  you.  You  always  do  think 
of  the  gladdest  things! 

"  Pretty  soon,  they  say,  I  shall  go  home.  I  wish 
I  could  walk  all  the  way  there.  I  do.  I  don't  think 
I  shall  ever  want  to  ride  anywhere  any  more.  It 
will  be  so  good  just  to  walk.  Oh,  I'm  so  glad !  I'm 
glad  for  everything.  Why,  I'm  glad  now  I  lost  my 
legs  for  a  while,  for  you  never,  never  know  how 
perfectly  lovely  legs  are  till  you  haven't  got  them  — 
that  go,  I  mean.  I'm  going  to  walk  eight  steps 
to-morrow. 

"  With  heaps  of  love  to  everybod) , 

"  Pollyanna." 


THE   END-. 


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Adventures  of  Jimmie  Dale,  The.     By  Frank  L.   Packard. 

Adventures  of  Sherlock  Holmes.    By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 

Affinities,  and  Other  Stories.     By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

After  House,  The.    By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

Against  the  Winds.     By  Kate  Jordan. 

Ailsa  Paige.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Also  Ran.     By  Mrs.  Baillie  Reynolds. 

Amateur  Gentleman,  The.    By  Jeffery  Farnol. 

Anderson   Crow,   Detective.     By    George    Barr  McCutcheon. 

Anna,  the  Adventuress.     By   E.   Phillips   Oppenheim. 

Anne's  House   of  Dreams.     By   L.   M.   Montgomery. 

Anybody  But  Anne.    By  Carolyn  Wells. 

Are  All  Men  Alike,  and  The  Lost  Titian.     By  Arthur  Stringer. 

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Ashton-Kirk,  Secret  Agent.     By  John  T.  Mclntyre. 

Ashton-Kirk,  Special  Detective.     By  John  T.  Mclntyre. 

Athalie.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

At  the  Mercy  of  Tiberius.    By  Augusta  Evans  Wilson. 

Auction  Block,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Aunt  Jane  of  Kentucky.    By  Eliza  C.  Hall. 

Awakening  of  ,Helena  Richie.    By  Margaret  Deland. 

Bab:  a  Sub-Deb.    By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

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Barbarians.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers1. 

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Bar  20  Days.    By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Barrier,  The.     Bv  Rex  Beach. 

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Beckoning  Roads.     By  Jeanne  Judson. 

Belonging.     By  Olive  Wadsley. 

Beloved  Traitor,  The.     By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Beloved  Vagabond,  The.     By  Wm.  J.  Locke. 

Beltane  the  Smith.     By  Jeffery  Farnol. 

Betrayal,  The.    Bv  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

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Big  Timber.    By  Bertrand  W.  Sinclair. 

Black  Bartlemy's  Treasure.     By  Jeffery  Farnol. 

Black  Is  White.     By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Blacksheep!  *Blacksheep!.    By  Meredith  Nicholson. 

Blind  Man's  Eyes,  The.     By  Wm.    Mac   Harg  and   Edwin 

Balmer. 
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Cab  of  the  Sleeping  Horse,  The.    By  John  Reed  Scott. 

Cabbage  and  Kings.    By  O.  Henry. 

Cabin  Fever.    By  B.  M.  Bower. 

Calling  of  Dan  Matthews,  The.    By  Harold  Bell  Wright, 

Cape  Cod  Stories.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Cap'n  Abe,  Storekeeper.    By  James  A.  Cooper. 

Cap'n  Dan's  Daughter.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Cap'n  ErI.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Cap'n  Jonah's  Fortune.    By  James  A.  Cooper. 

Cap'n  Warren's  Wards.    By  Joseph  'C.  Lincoln. 

Chinese  Label,  The.    Bv  J.  Frank  Davis. 

Christine  of  the  Young  Heart  By  Louise  Breintenbacfi  Clancy, 

Cinderella  Jane.     By  Marjorie  B.  Cooke. 

Cinema  Murder,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

City  of  Masks,  The.    By  George  Barr  McCutcheon, 

Cleek  of  Scotland  Yard.    By  T.  W.  Hanshew, 


